Where Next?
by rlalk1213
Summary: A curious girl named Rory finds Hogwarts by happenstance... or so she thinks. This uses the Harry Potter world, but mostly OCs.
1. The Sorting Ceremony

**A/N: I don't own anything having to do with the Harry Potter Universe.**

* * *

 **September 1, 2012**

After the half-giant Hagrid transferred the responsibility for the trembling first-years to the tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes, she marched them across the flagged stone floor and into a small side room, in which every year, she introduced herself and the school's rituals.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Professor McGonagall. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

With that, the stern witch ordered the new students to arrange themselves in a single file line, and then she led them through the double doors into the Great Hall. It was lit by thousands of candles strewn midair over four long tables glittering with golden plates and goblets, where the rest of the returning students sat. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the line of first years to this table, bringing them to a halt facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, ghosts shone misty silver.

Professor McGonagall left the students briefly to silently place a four-legged stool directly ahead of the line's midpoint. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth. And, just like every year prior, the hat began to sing:

"I may not be pretty,  
But into your heart I see,  
Soon, I'll sit atop your head  
And determine your destiny.

One by one, you'll be named  
To sit here and be claimed  
By one of the school's four houses,  
Each one of them acclaimed.

There's not a secret that is too deep  
For me to notice as I make my sweep,  
So do not ask that a change my decision  
Because that decision, I will keep.

If you are placed in Hufflepuff,  
Your colors are black and yellow.  
Your honesty and loyalty  
Are what make you an excellent fellow.

If you are placed in Gryffindor,  
Your colors are red and gold.  
Your bravery will distinguish you  
No matter what horrors unfold.

If you are in Ravenclaw,  
Your colors are bronze and blue  
Your value of wit and learning,  
Will always see you through.

Perhaps you are in Slytherin,  
Your colors silver and green  
You cunningly set out to be a success.  
On winning, you are keen.

So when your name is called,  
Just put me upon your head  
That way I can sort you,  
And you can be assigned a bed!

As the hat finished its song, the hall burst into applause. The hat bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. Professor McGonagall stood at the end of the long line of students holding a long roll of yellowed parchment and cleared her throat.

"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and then place the hat on your head" she said. "Arabel, Isla!"

A pink-faced girl with long strawberry blond hair stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. After a minute, the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Isla went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

"Boswell, Debbi!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Debbi scuttled off to sit next to Isla.

"Boot, Quinn!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Hailey as she joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Uma" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Covet, Matthew" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.

"Graf, Nate," a sandy-haired boy, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Slytherin.

"Hemmings, Aurora!"

None of the first-years stumbled forwards. Professor McGonagall glanced up from the parchment scroll, pinched her nose, and scanned the line, repeating "Hemmings, Aurora?"

Again, none of the students budged. This was not an everyyear occurrence. First-year students rarely skipped the sorting ceremony. McGonagall shrugged it off, guessing that Aurora missed the train, and continued with the list of names.

"Penn, Abigail!"

* * *

That evening, a letter was sent via owl to the Hemmings residence. However, the owl returned the next day having not delivered the letter. It seemed as though there was no Aurora Hemmings. Not in England. Not in Europe. Not in the world.

Aurora Hemmings never arrived at Hogwarts.


	2. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters

**May 12, 2015**

A girl sat in a chair adjacent to the windowsill, wide olive eyes mesmerized by the water droplets tracing the imperfections in the old glass pane. Even though each individual drop started its journey toward the ground on its own, it eventually merged with adjacent droplets, gaining speed until ultimately plummeting toward the pavement below. The girl fidgeted with the pages of a book entitled "Physics of Magnetism," as if intending to read it, but, distracted by the motion of the rain against the blurred green background of the budding trees, she never glanced down at its contents. Listening to the whisper of the rain as it traversed the metal frame of the train car, the girl shut her eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and finally opened the book to the page she left off.

 _Ferrimagnetism_ , she read. That was odd. She wondered why they had spelled "ferromagnetism" wrong in the title until she continued on to the subtitle, The Theory of Antiferromagnetism, and she understood that ferrimagnetism was a new idea, something she had not learned yet. She felt an ear-to-ear smile slowly envelope her face in anticipation of the "New," the satisfaction of a curiosity developed mere seconds ago in the realm of ferrimagnetism. As she dived into reading, her surroundings faded away and her whereabouts were demoted to a secondary importance.

 _Progress in electronics has advanced high frequency magnetic technology and finally has led to the development of oxide magnetic materials. Before delving into the theory of ferrimagnetism, we present the theory of antiferromagnetism, by which we mean an antiparallel alignment of spins. For example, MnO is an antiferromagnetic material with a face-centered cubic crystal structure._

The girl paused, scrunching her nose and eyebrows in concentration, trying to recall this crystal structure. Eventually, realizing that she was clueless what this structure was, she made a note to herself to research it later, and continued reading.

 _The alignment of their spins is determined by the neutron diffraction technique. As is well known, the neutron has no electric charge, but it can be scattered by the magnetic moments of the_ —

"Rory," a muffled voice lulled through the shhhhhh of the pouring rain. The voice was so quiet, so far away. However, her book was close and intriguing. She decided to ignore the voice calling her name and continued reading.

 _But it can be scattered by the magnetic moments of the spins and nuclei because it_ —

"Rory! This is our stop!" came the voice, noticeably louder this time. Her focus broke, and suddenly her ears opened to the sound of squealing metal as the train decelerated. She shut the book with a resounding thud and peered up at the source of the voice.

Her half brother, Odi, stood in front of her, arms crossed. One of his hands held a collection of papers, among which was the resume he had just presented to a potential employer. The mop of hair atop his head was greased back and gingery, like the fur of a frequently groomed cat. An anxious frown played at the corners of his mouth. Seeing her brother dressed up for his interview made Ror's heart swell with hope that this new employer would hire him. After her parents died a few years before, she became a dependent of her 23-year old brother, so the financial burden of the family fell on him. He was a film editor, and sometimes a project would end and finances would be tight for a couple of months until he found a new project. During these times, Rory always felt guilty that as a student, she could only work a limited number hours per week.

Rory stood as the train rolled to a stop. "I think you'll get the job," she told him.

"I hope so," he responded reaching a hand up to nervously ruffle his hair. The doors of the train car complained as they opened onto platform 7. The siblings exited the car and began weaving through the crowd of people pressing to enter it. "What are you reading?" her brother asked. Rory presented the book, allowing him to read the cover. Odi's eyes flicked from left to right as he processed what it was, his eyebrows raising as he teased, "what in this book could possibly intrigue a 14-year old girl?" Rory rolled her eyes. Odi knew about her obsession with physics and astronomy. After the first month in school, she had pestered her freshman-level physics teacher to allow her to enroll in the upperclassman course instead, allowing her to pursue her newfound passion. Odi smirked at her, pausing a moment before plucking the book out of her hands and sprinted toward platform 10.

Rory smiled slightly at her brother's improved mood, and scrambled after her brother, cursing her legs for being significantly shorter than his. A clock tolled, warning that the time was now 1:00 pm, adding to the chaotic noise of the crowd. Shouts echoed off the brick walls of the station as the siblings crashed through the unsuspecting crowd.

"Give it back!" Rory's shrill voice sounded.

"Come and get it, nerd!" he shouted over her shoulders.

Rory laughed, happily accepting her brother's teasing. Since she was a student, and he was always working, moments such as this had not happened in years. She was grateful to let loose and feel like a kid again. She raced through the crowd, hopping over luggage and weaving through the blurred figures in the crowd to race after Odi's bobbing ginger head. As she approached platform 9, she noticed a plump, blue suitcase and attempted to gracefully leap over it, but it was taller than she had anticipated; her foot grazed its edge, she went tumbling into one of the wrought iron arches supporting the ceiling. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled into a ball, tensing her muscles instinctively to brace herself for the impact with the wall. To her surprise, the only impact she felt was beneath her. She plopped down onto the ground and spun across the dusty, cement floor until her momentum was spent.

She lay still for a moment, trying to assess whether it was safe to unravel from her balled-up position, and, upon deciding it was, she lifted her head. Everyone had disappeared. She shook her head, listening for the buzz of the people in the station, but all she heard was the whisper of rain at the end of the tunnel. Puzzled, she glanced around. The station had the same brick walls, but instead of being 10 platforms wide, it only had one. She looked toward the sign on the iron archway that should have read "Platform 9." Only, the sign had changed. Now it read "Platform 9 ¾." Despite her confusion, she smiled. Whoever had placed that sign really knew how to make an original name for a platform. She wondered where she was, where this railway led, but she couldn't see a train schedule posted.

Rory considered panicking for a minute. She so far hadn't panicked, whereas most people stumbling on this platform probably would. After all, she was now lost. However, Rory felt some degree of familiarity with the empty platform. She decided this was odd; she had never been to this empty platform before and therefore had no business feeling familiar to it. She really should be panicking, and yet, she couldn't

She unsteadily stood and walked toward the archway. She started growing concerned about how she would return to Odi, but her calves were screaming from running and then tensing from impact. She decided she would solve one problem at a time and positioned herself close enough to the wall to stretch her calves. However, when she propped her foot against its iron surface, her food slid through and disappeared through the archway. "Weird," she said to herself. She raised her fist to knock on the iron frame, but her hand collided with no solid surface. However, when she leaned over to knock on the side parallel to the railway, her knuckles produced a resonant _clunk_. She decided that all sides but this one must be solid. "Is this side just a hologram?" she wondered.

She leaned to the side in question, squinting her eyes in an effort to determine the mysteries behind the wall when her watch beeped. She glanced down at her wrist. It read 1:05. "Odi!" she exclaimed, eyes widening as she remembered that she needed to steal back her precious book from her teasing brother. She glanced around at the puzzling, empty platform once more before taking a deep breath and stepping into the potentially holographic side of the archway.

Once again, she heard shouts echoing against the brick walls of the train station. A crowd of impatient people waiting for late trains buzzed around her. She glanced again toward the empty platform, but all she saw was the wrought-iron barrier separating platforms 9 and 10. She scanned the crowd for her brother's ginger head, spotting him at the exit near platform 10. She ran to catch up with him.

When she reached the exit, dazed and out of breath, her brother returned her book, and the siblings walked out into the rain toward their flat on Piccadilly. She swore to herself never to forget about platform 9 ¾.


	3. Long Days and Short Attention Spans

**August 31, 2015**

Rory hurriedly tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear as she approached the counter. "We need a plate of mac 'n cheese and a bowl of tomato soup for table 5!" she shouted toward her boss, Maria. Rory tore the order off her notepad and placed it on the ceramic counter as a reminder, briefly making eye contact with the middle-aged woman by the stove. She noticed that Maria's apron, once clean and white, was now splattered with tomato sauce and flower, making it seem pink. She had dark bags under her eyes from the exhaustion of the day's work, and Rory knew she must reflect her exhaustion. It had been an especially busy day. Usually, the small restaurant on Charing Cross Rd. only hosted a maximum of 10 guests each hour, but since 3:00 this afternoon, hordes of people had been stopping in to order a quick meal.

Most days, Rory liked this job. The air in the restaurant always smelled like caramelized onions and maple syrup, a combination that would make Rory's mouth water any time. When she was hungry, her boss always let her steal some chps from the kitchen, and the restaurant was usually calm enough that she never felt too overwhelmed. Her favorite aspect of the job was talking to the customers. All of them had their own unique story. Whenever a visitor came in sporting a T-shirt from a different country or speaking in an accent she had not heard before, she made a point to ask them where they were from, where they had traveled, or any other question that came to mind. Every new fact she learned about places outside of London made her long to explore. And around 4:00, the restaurant usually emptied. In these moments, her mind could stray to her long-term curiosities, like how to detect dark matter and, of course, platform 9 ¾.

However, today was frustrating. It was as if half of England had flocked to London. The streets were crowded with people wearing strange outfits. Rory assumed they were either tourists or some of those strange country residents, but the restaurant was so busy that she didn't get the chance to stop and ask. Instead of creating conversations, she bustled around, trying her best to provide efficient service to the overflowing restaurant. The best she could do to satiate her curiosity was to try to overhear parts of their conversations. She heard one man say to another that he was from Scotland. She had never been there. What was the food like? What was the most efficient way to get there? Why was this man visiting London? Then, she heard an eleven-year-old gushing about her classes in the upcoming school year. She sighed, envious of the girl's excitement; over the summer, her usual anticipation for classes dwindled as she realized that she had now exhausted her school's physics course offerings, so she could not pursue her passion for another three years.

She also heard a university student mention hang gliding, and on her way back to the counter to read his order to Maria, she imagined flying through the air, seeing the earth shrink beneath her. She had never even been on an aeroplane and she was dying to see the world from above. There were a few very out of the ordinary conversations, though. Around 8:00 pm, a family of six walked through the door, and each of them jumped two feet in the air when the bell attached to the door sounded to inform the restaurant of their presence. They were giggling as they read through the menu, and the children stared wide-eyed at the other customers as if they had never seen other people in their lives. Despite their strange behavior, their merriment made Rory's heart ache for her own. It had been almost four years now since the accident that took her parents away, and she had to turn around and wipe a tear from her eyes before continuing to clear the plates from table 7. When Rory took the family's orders a few minutes later, they looked curiously at her pen as she scribbled down their orders as if they'd never used one! She longed to ask them where they were from, and why they were all wearing weird poncho-like garments around their shoulders. Days like today, during which there was not time for questions, made her wish for a day off.

At 10:30, when the bell on the door rang once more to mark the exit of the last customer of the day and after Rory wiped off the last table, the restaurant finally closed. She walked back to the counter one more time, placed her notebook and pen in a drawer, and picked up her paycheck. Her eyes lingered over her name, "Rory Jones." It almost felt wrong, seeing her first name followed by Odi's surname, but at the same time, she couldn't imagine her name being any different. She assumed that her name was different before Odi took custody of her, since Odi took the surname of his father to whom Rory wasn't related. But five years was a long time, and her memory from before her seventh grade year had long since fizzled away into nothingness. Rory shook her head to dislodge any sense of unease and continued to clean up after the long day's work.

After wishing Maria a good night, she trudged toward the metro station and caught a train back to her flat on Piccadilly. When she reached her door, she automatically reached for her key to unlock the door. Despite the late hour, people were still out on the streets, drunkenly yelling to celebrate the end of the summer holiday, but as soon as the wooden door creaked open and she stepped into the dark, empty flat, she felt a chill of silence envelope her. It reminded her of falling through the wrought iron archway in the train station, opening her eyes and finding herself on a suddenly empty platform. Over the years, she had grown so accustomed to Odi's presence in the flat that when he got his new job and needed to move closer to it to reduce the commute, his absence was almost tangible.

"Welcome home," Rory greeted herself, trying to fill the empty space. She took a deep breath, inhaling the slightly dusty air in the flat, and flipped the light switch behind the door to illuminate room. The floor was covered in a blue fitted carpet, and there was a matching blue sofa on the left hand wall. A glass coffee table sat beside the sofa, and on top of it were several wires from phone and laptop chargers that were plugged into a power point nearby. The back of the room opened into a small kitchen counter and several wooden cupboards, and a painted blue door frame on her right hand side marked the entrance to Odi's old room. She looked down at her watch. 11:03. Odi was usually still awake at this time, so Rory picked up her phone to and dialed his number. Another way to fill the silence. He answered after the third ring.

"Hello?" his voice drawled. He was obviously tired, too. Rory decided that it must have been a long day for everyone.

"Hey Odi, It's me."

"Well, what do ya know? It's my nerd of a kid sister. Can you believe it's already August 31st? School should be starting soon, yeah?"

"Yeah. It starts in a week."

"That's cool. You're excited, aren't you?" he asked, likely recalling the day Rory bounced around the flat after receiving her schedule the previous year.

"Eh. My schedule… It's okay."

"No physics?"

"No physics." There was a pause before Rory thought about the next question. "How's work?"

"That's too bad," he sympathized before resuming his usual teasing. "Well, aside from the physics obsession, your decreasing enthusiasm is evidence that you might be getting more normal!" He gasped for effect, and Rory giggled. "Are you still working at the restaurant every day?"

"Yeah, same old same old..." As her sentence trailed into silence, her mind strayed again to platform 9 ¾. Where did the railway lead?

"Geez, stop being such an overachiever. Isn't this supposed to be your holiday? You should be a normal kid for once and take the day off!"

Rory rolled her eyes as if somehow, Odi could hear the motion over the phone. "You're a terrible influence. What would I even do?" she wondered, pretending to blow off Odi's suggestion. However, as she asked the question, Rory felt blood surge through her veins. Despite her exhaustion, she suddenly felt an impulse to return and investigate the mysterious platform. She had sick days at her disposal. What better time to explore than tomorrow? There was only a week left of summer break, anyway. She perked up instantly, and decided to change the subject. "Do you know when you get home?"

He sighed. "You know what, kid? It might be a while. This job is going really well."

"Glad to hear it's going so well."

"Me too. This could be my first great gig! The job that gets my name out so I don't have to work so hard to find jobs! And, sure, I might not be home a lot, but it's for the best in the long run."

"Sure, Odi. That's… great. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. Hey, Rory, it was really great talking to you, but I have another two scenes to edit and the deadline is in only a few short hours…"

"Right, I should let you go then."

"Goodnight."

"Night."

She removed the phone from her ear and tapped the red disconnect button, and then trudged over to the sofa, falling face-first into its leather cushions. "I really need a break," she told herself. She quickly sent an email to Maria to inform her that she was taking the day off tomorrow before she placed her phone on the coffee table and rolled over. "Tomorrow is going to be a new day," she thought to herself as her eyes drooped and her thoughts drifted to mysterious railways and fake railways and fake railways and fake walls.


	4. Twigs and Ponchos

**September 1, 2015**

Rory's eyes blinked open to a cruelly bright light streaming into her eyes through the east-facing window. She yelped as she covered her eyes with her hand and patted the coffee table in a blind search for her phone. In the process, she rolled off the sofa and onto the unforgiving floor with a thud. She groaned, pushed herself up into a sitting position, and rubbed her eyes until she no longer saw sun spots. With her vision restored, she finally found her phone. It was 10:15. She had slept much longer than she had anticipated, and anxiety jolted through her as she realized that if her boss had responded she needed to work today, she would be late. She quickly unlocked her phone and refreshed her email, sighing with relief when she noticed the text "okay," beneath the subject line of Maria's response.

Rory stood, sliding the phone into her back pocket. She was stiff from eleven hours of motionless sleep, so she stretched as she made a mental list of items to pack for her day off.

1\. Her phone in case Odi called  
2\. Its charger, too, so that she wouldn't drain her battery  
3\. A jacket; Long-distance trains were often air conditioned to the point where they could probably support ice rinks without too much extra effort  
4\. Money in case she was hungry.  
5\. If she ate, she would probably wish to brush her teeth, so she should also bring a toothbrush and toothpaste.  
6\. Her travel card; if she forgot it, she would have to pay for tickets to determined destinations, and she did not have the forethought to plan such frivolous aspects of a day trip.

When Rory finished stretching, she unplugged her electronics, and stuffed them into a sky blue rucksack she normally stashed behind the sofa. Then, she removed a frozen waffle from the freezer and stuffed it in her mouth. She walked to her pine dresser, pulled at a few drawers, and grabbed the topmost items of clothing: pink capris and an army green v-neck with three-quarter sleeves. She chuckled to herself as she realized that she had decided to wear three-quarter sleeves to explore platform 9 ¾.

After she hurriedly changed and zipped her bag, she shoved her feet into a pair of sneakers and slung her bag over her shoulder. She was halfway out the door of the flat when she realized that she had not brought the book she was reading, Carl Sagan's _Cosmos_ , so she ran back inside to retrieve it. She returned to the door, swinging it shut and locking it behind her, before heaving her bag onto her back and skipping excitedly toward the train station.

As she walked into the familiar, brick-walled train station, she was overwhelmed by the buzz of travelers. It was just as crowded as the restaurant had been crowded the night before. Rory could barely see the cement floor because of the plethora of feet and luggage of all kinds: suitcases, duffel bags, a few trunks, and even some bird cages.

She shoved her way toward the arrivals board, over which stood a large, digital clock that read "10:50 pm" in neon green. She scanned the board for any trace of platform 9 ¾, but all she saw were arrival announcements for platforms 9 and 10. She swiveled around and stumbled toward the area between the big plastic 9 and the big plastic 10.

When she finally reached the iron barrier and stepped through, she expected the embrace of a sudden silence. However, platform 9 ¾ was louder than the rest of the station. She raised her eyebrows and opened her eyes to a tunnel buzzing with activity. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to the swarm of people, and a sign overhead said "Hogwarts express, eleven o'clock." Hogwarts? Rory wondered who would ever give such a revolting name to a place.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound between their legs. One ginger cat stopped and purred at Rory's feet, and its color instantly reminded her of Odi. She leaned down to pet her furry friend, but before she could make contact, the cat leaped away to chase a fleeting pair of boots. Owls hooted at one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and scraping of heavy trunks. About half of the crowd were dressed in the strange ponchos she had seen at the restaurant the night before, and everyone above the age of ten or eleven was sporting some sort of twig. She watched as a chubby, middle-aged woman with a twig behind her ear leaned down to hug a shaggy-haired teenage boy who had a twig protruding from his rear pocket, and Rory laughed when the boy's face crinkled in discomfort. On her left, a girl with blond pigtails was trying to wrestle a twig away from an older girl with matching features and a twig dangling out of her jacket pocket.

Rory found herself smiling; the merriment on the platform was contagious. Kids between the ages of eleven and eighteen bounced with excitement and pulled their parents nearer to the scarlet. At 10:58, the platform was virtually void of teenagers, and Rory decided that if she were to learn where this mysterious train went, she would have to leave pronto. After all, she still could not find an official train schedule. Rory shook her head and glanced longingly at the wrought iron archway, which she had not yet investigated. She shrugged, deciding that with such a crowd, inspecting the platform entrance would be disruptive anyway. Besides, she thought, these people probably knew how it worked, so she could just ask one of them. With that, she turned back toward the steam engine and glided through its doors.

The inside of the Hogwarts Express was unfamiliar to Rory also. Rows of seats were replaced by several compartments separated from the grey walkway by sliding, glass doors. The seats inside were covered in blue velvet. As far as Rory could see, there were no empty compartments. She figured that it was for the best; she had so many questions about the platform and the mysterious destination, and she could not ask them to an empty room.

She approached a compartment in which four red-clad teens were engrossed in conversation. A girl with curly red hair was pointing at an article in a newspaper with her twig. The newspaper was unusual also. It appeared to display short videos instead of photographs. Did the paper somehow have computer screens sewn into it? That did not seem a plausible explanation, since the paper did not seem to droop as if it were weighed down by such technology. Rory decided that she would knock and ask. She pounded her fist against the glass door three times.

A dark-haired girl in a red and black poncho rolled the door open, and, with a bored expression, stared at Rory's shirt. "What do you want?" she asked. Rory thought the girl was being rather cold, but she continued anyway.

"Hello! I was wondering if I could sit with you?" Rory greeted cheerfully.

Everyone in the compartment paused their conversation and turned to Rory to glare. After a minute, a boy with greased back, shoulder-length brown hair raised his eyebrows and frowned.

"Ew no," he scoffed.

The boy with shaggy black hair seated across from him nodded, explaining, "We don't sit with anyone wearing _those_ colors."

"Slither back to your hole, snake," sneered the girl with curly red hair.

The girl with dark hair simply smirked and rolled the glass door closed in front of Rory's face.

"Well that was rude," Rory muttered to herself before walking deeper into the train car. She vowed to only approach compartments with open doors, assuming that people in those compartments would be more sociable.

As she walked toward the pack of the first car, the train lurched forward, and she stumbled into a glass pane of a green-clad compartment. "Snakes," she repeated in her head, connecting the green color to the name the red-clad group had spat at her. The sandy-haired boy just inside the compartment jumped from the _thunk_ of Rory's fall before turning to her and laughing. He had a wide grin that stretched between his ears and twinkling eyes. Rory felt blood rush to her cheeks, but she couldn't resist smiling, too. His amusement was magnetic, and she had to admit that her fall was pretty funny.

After she steadied herself, Rory continued down the aisle into the second car. She passed several compartments with open doors, but they were filled with eleven-year-olds binging on candy, and she did not desire the company of children on sugar highs, so she proceeded into the third car. Eventually, she passed an open door that led into a compartment of yellow-clad teens. She looked up toward the sky and hoped that only people wearing red would reject her based on the color of the clothing, and then she knocked on the door frame.

The entire compartment paused their conversation and turned to smile at Rory.

"Greetings!" squealed a girl in a yellow sun dress. Her strawberry blond hair was woven intricately in a braid that trailed halfway down her back, and she held a black poncho in her lap. Her twig had been poked through her braid.

"What's your name?" asked a girl who sat across from her. This black-haired girl wore a black poncho with a yellow accent and had a fashionable pixie-cut. She had her twig in her left hand.

"I'm Rory," she said, and offered her hand for a handshake. However, instead of shaking her hand, the black-haired girl grabbed it and pulled her onto the seat next to her.

"I'm Debbi," said the black-haired girl.

"And I'm Isla," said the girl in the yellow sun dress. "This is Tyler, she said, gesturing to the smiling boy in a poncho seated on her left. He has spiky, copper hair and a yellow bow tie.

"What house are you in?" he inquired.

Isla shoved him. "She's in Slytherin, _obviously_."

Rory was confused. Slytherin? Was that gibberish?

Debbi shook her head and gazed toward Rory, smile plastered to her face. "I'm so jealous. I'd look so good in green. Or red. Really anything but this," She gestured to her yellow and black poncho. "Sadly, I was sorted into Hufflepuff, so I _have_ to wear yellow." Sorted? Hufflepuff? What was she talking about?

Rory nodded her head, unsure what to make of the conversation. She wiped her hands against her legs nervously and looked down at her feet, trying to avoid crafting a direct response to Debbi. The compartment was starting to feel very small very quickly.

Luckily, Isla saved Rory from responding, "Omigod, I saw the most darling earrings in Diagon Alley yesterday! Jewelry is always better when it's made in London..." Diagon Alley? Rory tried to recall a map that included this place, but she was pretty sure it didn't exist.

Tyler changed the subject. "I can't wait until school starts! What classes are you guys taking this year?" School? Rory had gotten on a train headed to a school? All of a sudden, the fact that all of the people on the train were around her age made sense. Even the weird name, Hogwarts, became less weird with this understanding.

Isla started bouncing. She had too much energy. "I'm taking Potions and Care of Magical Creatures. Oooh that should be so fun! I'm really looking forward to Charms, too, but I' a little nervous about Arithmancy, because I'm usually not too good at maths…" she rambled. Rory was confused. She had heard of Arithmancy before as a numerical technique fortune tellers used to scam people. Why would a school teach it? Was it a school for cult children? Isla continued, "Just think: we'll be at school in just under four hours! I am so excited. What classes are you taking, Debbi?"

Debbi started bouncing again. And clapping. "I'm in Care of Magical Creatures, too! We must be in the same class!" she burst. Magic? Rory decided she had gotten on a train of crazy people, but she continued listening politely to the group's fast, high-pitched conversation for what felt like a few hours before she finally excused herself to the loo and exited the compartment.

As soon as she was back in the aisle, she gave up on finding a compartment that didn't either call her names or speak gibberish. She darted to the space where the aisle widened between cars one and two, and sat on the grey rubber tread. She unzipped her bag and removed her book, opening it to page 1. This was going to be a long train ride, but at least she had 365 pages of Sagan's _Cosmos_ to help her through it.


	5. Welcome to Hogwarts

A hard shove aimed at Rory's right arm disturbed her from her reading. She reluctantly lifted her head from page 250 to stare into the sharp face of a long-haired student dressed in another yellow poncho and sporting a twig behind her ear. Rory was instantly wary; she did not want to be put into another compartment of overly friendly crazy people dressed in yellow.

"Excuse me. I'm Laura, one of the Hufflepuff prefects," she chimed, pointing to a badge on her poncho that read _Prefect_ in boldface. While Rory did not understand the term, she associated the badge with authority. Additionally, she was relieved to see that this girl was not bouncing with a smile plastered on her face as were the yellow-clad students in the last compartment. "Just so you are aware, we should reach Hogwarts in 15 minutes," Laura said. "It's time to change into your robes." Laura gestured to her poncho, and instantly, the expression _poncho=robes_ flashed through Rory's head. She grew so immersed into searching for a connection between a twig obsession, robes, magic, and a train to a school that she momentarily forgot to craft a response to Laura's greeting until the girl cleared her throat expectantly. "Is everything alright?" she asked, arching her left eyebrow.

Rory's mind raced. How should she respond? Several options bounced through her head.

 **Option 1: Honesty**

She would explain that she did not know where she was or where she was going. She had gotten on the train by accident. This option had the most integrity, but it would make her seem like an outsider, and people would be less comfortable asking her questions about the platform entryway. However, they would probably help her find her way back to London.

 **Option 2: Nonchalance**

She would say that everything is fine, thanks for asking. She might add in a fib about motion sickness. This option would definitely get Laura to leave her alone, but if everyone else was changing into their robes, it would still have the unfortunate consequence of highlighting her lack of belonging. Again, people would not readily answer her questions. Unlike option 1, people would not help her find a way back to London because she would not ask.

 **Option 3: Going Undercover**

She would claim that she forgot her robe at home. This way, she would not automatically seem an outsider. She would have her questions answered, and then she could find her way home. She could probably even ask where to find the train schedule with this option unlike in option 2.

She decided to go with option 3. Shaking her head and pouting slightly, she said. "I'm sorry. I just realized that I forgot my robes at home."

The girl tisked. "Come on. We'll see if anyone in your house has spares." She offered a hand to help Rory stand. Rory took it and rose to her feet. Then, the two proceeded to the green-clad compartment in the first car that she had stumbled into , Rory thought, what I really need is more humiliation in front of this compartment! She bowed her head and tried to cover her face such that a curtain of hair fell forward and concealed her face as Laura knocked on the door and asked to speak to Nate. To Rory's horror, the sandy-haired boy exited the compartment.

"Hi Nate. I hope you had a pleasant summer," Laura greeted.

Nate flashed her a brilliant smile and responded, :Likewise."

"This is…" she paused as she gestured to Rory before she apologized, "Sorry, but I didn't catch your name."

Rory lifted her head slightly, blood once again rushing into her cheeks, and croaked, "Rory."

"Right! Rory!" Laura cheered. "Rory here says she forgot her robes at home, and I was wondering if you could find an extra one for her, since you're both in Slytherin."

Nate peered at Rory through the corner of his eye as if he was calculating his next move. Rory hoped he accepted the story. A moment later, he said to Laura, "I think I can find one."

Laura smiled. "Thank you, Nate!" She waved goodbye and walked toward the back of the train, disappearing as she entered the second car. Nate now turned to face Rory. Rory noticed that he was taller than her, which was not that surprising since she was vertically challenged, but suddenly, it made her feel very small. "So, you don't have a robe?" His calculating expression returned to his face.

"No," Rory said.

"Uh-huh," he affirmed, clearly not believing her. He walked into the compartment and pulled a green robe out of a trunk on the luggage rack above his seat. When he returned to the walkway, he held out the robe, but when Rory tried to grab it, he held it away from her, asking "Wait, aren't you the girl who fell into the wall earlier?"

"Yep." Rory laughed nervously. "What can I say? I'm a klutz."

He laughed. "That's a bit of a rookie mistake isn't it?"

Rory Shrugged.

"As is forgetting a robe," he continued.

Rory shrugged again.

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen you around school. Are you even a student?"

Oh no. Rory froze. Nate had found her out, not that her plan was great to begin with. Her undercover mission was crumbling before her eyes, and she needed to do something to save it. Rory tried to think of any lie she could tell him to keep her plan in motion. As the silence continued, Nate's smile faded. He was obviously wondering if she was mentally competent. And then the right line hit her.

"I'm a transfer," she blurted. "I just moved here, so I needed to switch schools." It wasn't entirely a lie. After all, she did attend a different school.

"Okay." Nate nodded. Rory wasn't sure if he believed her story, but he dropped the subject nonetheless. "So you haven't been sorted yet." It was not a question.

"No."

"Well you can wear this until you get sorted, but I'll want it back once you get your own robes. Do you even know what the houses are?

Rory smiled sheepishly, secretly extolling herself for prolonging her mission. "Not really. I think the yellow one is Hufflepuff. And the green one is Slytherin."

Nate smiled back. "Correct. Also, blue is Ravenclaw, and red is Gryffindor."

"Red is mean," said Rory.

"You're wearing the wrong color."

"Why should that matter?"

"You'll see soon enough." Nate sighed. There was a pause before Rory realized that this was the perfect time to ask questions.

"So what is with the hologram over the entrance to platform 9 ¾?"

"What?

Had he not heard her or did he not know about holograms? Rory rephrased her question. "How does the platform entrance work?"

"You don't know?"

Rory shook her head.

"Must not have been very good homeschooling."

Rory shrugged.

"The entrance is magically concealed."

"Oh," Rory muttered. There was that term again. Magic. The idea didn't sound quite as crazy from a person who hadn't ridden the yellow-clad bus in from creepy town.

The train whistled. "You should get changed," Nate said, before turning around and heading back into his compartment.

Rory retreated to her corner between cars 1 and 2 and threw the robes over her. Within a minute, the train had decelerated to a stop, and people were leaving the train. She stood still, watching people exit until she heard a shout from behind her.

"Rory!" squealed a high-pitched voice.

Rory jumped and glanced behind her. It was Debbi. She was skipping down the walkway with Isla and Tyler at her sides. They were all waving frantically with smiles plastered to their faces.

Rory exited through the door directly in front of her, and jogged through the crowd of students along the dark road.

She heard another shout from her right. "Rory!" The voice was deeper this time. She looked to her right. It was Nate. Rory veered toward him and slowed to a walk. "Why were you running?" he asked.

"Have you met Debbi, Isla, and Tyler?" Rory asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nate looked toward the sky and nodded slowly. "People are not supposed to be that happy."

Rory shook her head, eyes wide in mock terror. "I don't think those are people," she said. Nate laughed.

As the two continued down the dim road with the rest of the crowd, coaches came into view. Rory now saw a group of teens in robes waving them over to get on a carriage. The two boarded the carriage, which proceeded to roll away from the train. After the students had all introduced themselves, Nate gestured around the coach. "These are the horseless coaches that take us to the school entrance," he explained.

Rory tilted her head to the side. "They're not horseless," she asserted. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts. They were like horses, but slightly more reptilian. Their flesh was replaced with scales, and their back coats were clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their white eyes had no pupils. Leathery wings sprouted from each side, gleaming in the dim light from the train behind them.

Nate nodded, as if this meant something to him, but all he responded to Rory was, "they should be." Rory remained quite for a few minutes as Nate began discussing something called "quiditch" with his friends with the same zeal Odi had when he discussed futbol.

As the carriage inched farther and farther away from the train, a knot formed in Rory's stomach. She wasn't sure how she would return to the train station, and she didn't even know when trains were running. She tapped Nate on the shoulder. "How often do the trains to London run?"

"Every weekend, the days school starts and ends, and around major holidays. Why?"

Rory shrugged. She hoped a train was running to London tonight. She was about to ask how to find the train schedule, but just then, the group reached the entrance of a castle, and they all exited the carriage. It was made out of cold, gray stone. Rory thought that the architecture must be Gothic as she stared up at the tall and pointed archway that housed two iron double-doors.

As the group entered the castle, and walked across the flagstone floor and into the great hall, Rory's mouth was agape. The Great Hall was lit by thousands of candles strewn midair over four long tables glittering with golden plates and goblets. As far as she could see, nothing was holding the candles afloat. The word _Magic_ raced through her mind. The rest of the students sat at the four long tables, each of which was adorned in a table cloth with the respective house colors. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Rory followed Nate and his friends to the green table and sat down. The golden plates on the tables were already stacked with food. The plate directly in front of her was covered in chocolate chip cookies. A plate on her left, in front of Nate, displayed peppermint patties. On a plate to her right, there was a pyramid of pudding cups. As soon as the students were settled, Nate leaned over to Rory and said "I'll help you find Professor McGonagall after the ceremony so that you can be sorted. But until then, enjoy the food."

Rory smiled. A full table's worth of free food. This was turning into an excellent day trip. She grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from the plate in front of her and popped it into her mouth.

"By the way," Nate said, "welcome to Hogwarts."


	6. Ultimatum

The ceremony was entertaining, to say the least. A tattered hat had been placed on an old wooden stool in the front of the hall, and then, through a tear in its brim, it sang. It was a talking hat. Its brown leather even had wrinkles akin to those that develop around the mouths of the elderly! Whenever the hat was transferred from one student to the next, Rory tried to peer inside to find a tiny speaker or arduino board that could help explain its ability to talk. She was convinced that "magic" still boiled down to physics and computer logic. Sadly, from her seat near the back of the Great Hall, she could see no evidence of electrical components.

The content of the hat's song was just as troublesome to Rory as its lacking electronics. The hat's song described Hogwarts as a school divided into houses defined by personality traits. Slytherins were supposed to be clever and cunning. She thought this description fit Nate pretty well as she recalled his distrust of her on the train. Ravenclaws valued wit and learning. Rory hadn't met any Ravenclaws yet, but she imagined that they appreciated puns and that they would accept her passion for physics and astronomy.

Hufflepuffs were friendly and loyal. She cringed as she thought of Debbi, Isla and Tyler. They were definitely friendly, albeit to a creepy level. Then, she thought of Laura, the kind prefect who had helped her find a robe to wear. She had been friendly, too, and she had been loyal to Rory from the start by helping her. Because of Laura, Rory knew that not all Hufflepuffs were as giddy as the three she had shared a compartment with.

Gryffindors were brave. She thought back to the red-clad compartment on the train, and wondered how such mean behavior could be considered brave. The group of students she encountered was undoubtedly feisty. She hoped that these students were not representative of the entire house, and wondered whether their resentment toward her simply displayed an inability to relate to people from different houses. Rory supposed that isolating students based on a brand of personality test delivered by a hat to eleven-year-olds probably inhibited cooperation skills. If these students only socialized with people with similar values, how could they relate to people with different values?

After the sorting finished, and the first-years were seated at their respective tables, the black-haired woman in emerald-green robes announced that it was time to start the feast, and the plates of snacks in front of Rory transformed into towers of entrees. As Rory picked at her lasagna, Nate turned to the boy with curly brown hair seated across from Rory and asked, "Fritz, truth or dare?" Rory rolled her eyes. She hadn't played truth or dare since she was ten.

Fritz rested his chin on his hand to stroke his nonexistent facial hair pensively. "Dare," He decided.

Nate smirked and looked around the hall. "Alright. I dare you to go to the Ravenclaw table and start a battle of fish puns."

Fritz pinched his eyebrows together. "Man, I thought you were gonna give me something fun," he complained. . Rory's eyes trailed him as he trudged to the end of the Ravenclaw table and announced, "Gee, I'd krill to have a pun battle."

Instantaneously, the hall was buzzing with responses. "Whale, I'll win!" someone shouted. "I don't think I'm herring you right. Did you say you'll lose?" came the reply. "Your puns cod be better," another student taunted. Rory giggled and told Nate, "These puns are kraken me up." He smiled shook his head in mock disappointment. A minute later, Fritz returned to the table.

"Nate, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Would you ever be friends with a Gryffindor?"

Rory leaned forward. Only minutes ago, she wondered about the isolation of different houses, and the answer to this question might help her understand whether students here branched out to people with different values.

Nate pinched his nose as he thought. "No," he concluded. "I can't imagine getting along with those oh-so righteous gits. We're just not compatible."

Rory again thought about her experience in the red-clad compartment, and she, too, doubted that anyone could be compatible with people who were that rude to strangers. However, part of her was also offended. Wasn't Nate promising to help her find Professor McGonagall so she could get sorted? She thought that she related most to Ravenclaw, but if she were put into Gryffindor, would Nate really stop being her friend? She shook these questions out of her head. After all, this was a day trip. Nate wasn't really her friend anyway, and she definitely wasn't going to wait around long enough get sorted.

She glanced at her watch. 8:00 pm. She should leave soon, anyway, she thought as Nate turned to her. "Rory, truth or dare?" he asked.

Rory said, "Sorry, I'm not playing" and excused herself to the loo. On her way out of the Great Hall, she removed the borrowed robe and casually dropped it by the exit for Nate to find later.

She was leaving the building when she heard her name.

"Rory!"

She turned to see Laura, running up to her with the robe she had dropped.

"I think you dropped this. I wouldn't want you to lose it!" She handed the robe to Rory and then walked back into the Great Hall.

Rory folded it and placed it by the door and then resumed her exit when she heard her name. Again. She didn't stop this time. She had walked down 3 of the castle's steps when she heard her name a third time. She looked behind her. It was Nate. He was standing, arms crossed, robe in hand in the doorway. She really couldn't get away from that stupid robe!

"Rory, truth or dare?"

"Nate, I told you I'm not playing."

"Good you chose truth. Why were you asking about the train schedule?"

Rory shuffled her feet. She _could_ lie, but if Nate's behavior on the train was any indication, he would see right through her, and she might as well tell the truth. Besides, it was getting too late in the day to do otherwise if she had any hope of getting home before nightfall. "I'm going home," she responded.

"I thought you were pretending to be a transfer," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Rory barked out a laugh. "Not anymore. I need to find a way home."

"You're a terrible liar," Nate commented before beckoning her inside. "Professor McGonagall can help you find your way home."

Nate led Rory through tangled hallways and moving stairs until they reached a gargoyle.

"Catnip," he said, and the gargoyle moved aside to reveal a spiral staircase. As the two entered the stairwell, Rory tried to find evidence of electronic components in the gargoyle, again to no avail. The top of the stairs opened into a large and beautiful circular room. A number of curious silver instruments rested on tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were sleeping. There was also an enormous hardwood desk, and, sitting on top of it, the shabby brown wizard's hat from the sorting ceremony. Behind that desk sat the black-haired woman in emerald-green robes. Reading glasses threatened to fall off the tip of her nose as she arched over a piece of parchment, scribbling with a quill and ink.

"Excuse me, headmistress," Nate said, "But this is Rory. She doesn't attend school here and would like to go home."

The headmistress, who must have been Professor McGonagall, jumped as if she had not heard the two enter. Then, she took off her reading glasses and swished her twig in the air. Two chairs appeared on the closer side of the hardwood desk. Nate took a seat, so Rory followed suit. She patted the edges of the chairs, searching for translucent strings or magnetic strips, but found nothing.

"What do you mean, she doesn't attend school here?" the headmistress asked Nate. "That's absurd." She looked at Rory. "How did you get here?"

Rory started twiddling with her thumbs and answered, "I caught the train."

"But how did you find the platform?"

"Well, last May I kinda tripped into it." Rory glanced up at the headmistress. Her face was stern. Rory took a deep breath before continuing. "And I had a day off from work today and decided to investigate it. But then there was this train and it was leaving to some unknown destination, so—"

"You just decided to hop on? With no way to get back?" shrieked the headmistress, who was now standing.

Rory decided to match the headmistress's body language and stood, too. "Well most trains have a consistent schedule," she fired back.

McGonagall took her seat and massaged her temples as she thought about how to deal with this student.

Nate interrupted the silence. "You can't get onto the platform if you don't have magical connections," he reminded the headmistress. "And don't we have an open spot in out grade's roster anyway?" he asked, raising both eyebrows at the headmistress.

The headmistress's eyebrows shot up in response, indicating more depth to Nate's words than Rory understood. Hesitantly, McGonagall continued, "yes, indeed we do have an extra space on the roster. Rory was it? What is your full name?"

"Rory Jones," Rory responded.

"And Rory isn't short for anything?" asked the headmistress, twirling a quill between her fingers.

"It's short for Aurora, but nobody calls me that. Ever." Rory's face contorted with the sound of her full first name. It sounded so formal. The only plus to having _that_ as her first name was the natural phenomenon behind it. In that way, the name was fitting of Rory. Aurora, or northern lights, occurred when charged particles from the sun struck atoms in Earth's atmosphere. They caused electrons in the atoms to move to a higher-energy state. When the electrons dropped back to a lower energy state, they released photons of different frequencies, painting a beautiful rainbow in the night sky.

Professor McGonagall blinked twice before deciding how to respond. She stood again and peered at Rory. "Miss _Jones_ ," she started. Rory thought the emphasis on her surname was odd, but she didn't question it. "You have two options. The first option is to attend this school. If you were able to get through the platform entrance, you must have magic, which means you're a witch. If you start here, you can hone your skills through classes like potions and charms and astronomy. You'll be behind, but you might be able to catch up eventually if you put in enough time. However, if you don't accept this offer, you will be sent back to your muggle life and your mind will be wiped of everything: the platform, the train, the school."

Rory did not recognize many of the words the headmistress had said. What was a muggle? Charms? Potions? Magic? Rory's head was swimming with questions, but most of all, she was curious about the astronomy. Her high school offered no more physics classes, and they certainly had no astronomy courses. _Let's face it_ , she thought to herself, _you're bored in London. You don't really have any friends to tie you down, and think of all of the questions you can answer if you stay._ She straightened her posture and folded her hands in her lap."How many astronomy classes are offered?"

"Seven years worth."

Rory's eyes widened with wonder before she quickly remembered Odi and her job. His physical presence might not prevent her from spontaneously deciding to attend the school-after all, he was going to leave her alone in London in order to work on his new film project-but the financial burden might. "How much money is tuition?" Rory asked.

Nate's head snapped up, the calculating expression returning to his face. Was money not a consideration for him, or was he just surprised that she was seriously considering the school?

"Well that depends on how much you have. I assume that you are living with muggles, in which case you do not have magical currency and you can attend for free," responded the headmistress. "Do you need to consult any guardians on this decision?"

Rory thought about asking to call her brother. Since he was technically her guardian, she probably should consult him on this decision. However, Rory doubted he would protest her transfer, especially after hearing about how many astronomy courses this place offered. Besides, Rory doubted Odi would even register her transfer; he was too busy with his job. Rory slowly shook her head. "No," she said simply.

"Alright..." trailed McGonagall. "Have you made your decision? Are you staying or going?"

Rory paused once more to ensure that she chose correctly. She could go home, attend a high school that prevents her from following her passion, and work to help Odi pay her tuition and rent, or she could stay here, follow her passion for physics and astronomy, and not have a tuition to pay. Her choice was clear. "I'll stay."

"Good," nodded McGonagall. "You'll be sorted first thing tomorrow morning. You'll be behind, but you might be able to catch up. Maybe. But only if you are committed to your studies and have the luck of being paired with sympathetic professors. This is not a guarantee. I'll see you tomorrow at seven o'clock."

As Nate and Rory exited the circular office and weaved through the corridors of Hogwarts, Rory couldn't help but think how much she appreciated McGonagall's confidence in her ability to academically compete with eleven-year-olds.


	7. The House of Insufferable Gits

**September 2, 2015**

Rory had difficulty sleeping. All night, she tossed and turned, trying to escape from an unusual recurring dream. She had dreamt that she had some strange idea one day to skip work and hop onto a random outgoing train, and that she had arrived at a magical school. Then, she was given a decision to either return to her home in London or stay, and her dream self kept making the crazy decision to ditch her job, her brother, and her high school to stay at the fantastical school! It was absurd.

When Rory's watch alarm finally beeped at 6:45 after hours of restlessness, Rory rolled over on the comfortable leather sofa and performed her routine search for her phone. She blindly stretched her hand out toward Odi's coffee table. However, instead of grazing the sleek glass top of the coffee table, her hand smacked into a cold, grainy surface. Her eyes popped open in bewilderment. There was no glass coffee table, no blue leather sofa. Instead, she found herself staring at a rough stone wall from a green leather sofa. There was a crackling of a fireplace behind her, and the lamps that dangled from ceiling chains above her emitted a soft green light that reflected against the shiny, hardwood floor. As she rose to a perch on the green leather sofa, she noticed an elaborately carved mantelpiece above the fire and an elaborate emerald portrait of a serpent above it. As she noticed her surroundings, she remembered where she was: the Slytherin common room in the absurd school. She had actually agreed to completely change her life.

Rory shook her head and searched the floor for her blue canvas rucksack. Spotting it at her feet, she reached into it and extracted her toiletries. After shuffling to the bathroom, splashing her face with water, and brushing her teeth, she packed her bag and stepped through the portrait covering the dungeon. She followed the path through the tangle of corridors she had memorized the night before until she reached the gargoyle outside of the headmistress's office.

"Catnip," she said. The gargoyle stepped aside to reveal the spiral staircase. She stepped inside the stairwell. As she climbed, she pondered what house she would be sorted into. She obviously wouldn't be a Hufflepuff. After all, she wasn't very honest and her spontaneous school transfer didn't display much loyalty. She liked to think of herself as brave, but she doubted she could associate with students as mean as that Gryffindor group on the train. She also thought she was clever, but usually her cleverness was a side effect of her constant reading than a natural trait. She definitely was not cunning enough to deliver a successful lie to Nate. However, she had an unquestionable appreciation of learning. Rory had little doubt that the sorting hat would pace her in Ravenclaw.

As she approached the top of the spiral staircase, Rory glanced at her watch. It was 6:58. She would be 2 minutes early. She climbed the last three steps as slowly as she could manage and entered the circular office. Owls hooted and fluttered around the office. Just like last night, Professor McGonagall sat behind the enormous hardwood desk in the center of the room, squinting at a piece of parchment. Rory knocked on the arch at the top of the stairwell. Unlike last night, the headmistress didn't jump, since she expected Rory this time. She simply looked up from the parchment and informed Rory, "You're a minute early."

"Yes I am," agreed Rory.

Like the night before, the headmistress swished her twig and a chair whooshed to the closer side of the desk. Rory took a seat and folded her hands in her lap.

"You are here for your sorting," said the headmistress. Rory nodded. The headmistress placed the parchment on the enormous desk. Then she reached behind her to grab the shabby pointed hat that now sat atop a shelf behind the desk. As the headmistress faced away from her, Rory attempted to read upside down and noticed that it was a list. She had deciphered "Isla Arabel- Hufflepuff" and "Debbi Boswell- Hufflepuff" before the headmistress turned back to Rory, who shifted her eyes to the professor's stern face. "You realize, I hope, that sorting only happens once. Whatever house you get is what you keep," warned the headmistress.

Rory nodded again, picturing herself in a blue robe exchanging fish puns with her peers. She smiled. "I'm ready," she said. She straightened her posture as McGonagall placed the shabby, brown hat on her forehead. Rory noticed that the hat didn't sink below her eyebrows. Of course, she thought, I'm not eleven, after all.

"No, you're fifteen now," responded a voice inside her head. Rory froze. A voice was inside her head that was not her own. Was she schizophrenic?

"No, you're not mental either. You are late, however." Late? She had gotten here early!

"Four years and half a day late, to be exact, not that I care" continued the voice. "I am the sorting hat by the way." Rory wondered how she could be four years late if she hadn't learned about Hogwarts until yesterday.

"Sure, don't apologize for missing our appointment," responded the sorting hat resentfully. "Just keep pretending you forgot about all the letters the headmistress sent you! What a great excuse! You clearly aren't destined for Hufflepuff!

 _Obviously_ , thought Rory.

"I see that you are pretty smart. You value learning. Yet, you are also somewhat spontaneous, and you don't fear following your own passion despite teasing from family members or peers."

Rory grew impatient. The sorting felt like it had been going on for much longer than it had with the eleven-year-olds.

"Of course sorting you is taking longer! Four years ago, you would have been more two-dimensional. Sorting you would have been easy, and the wide divisions between houses would have no threat. But no! You had to wait four years and grow more complex. Now you possess some traits from all the houses, and I can't sort you based solely on how your house with effect you. Now I have to consider how you will influence the house! I have to figure out who you can most benefit! Don't blame me!" shouted the hat.

Rory still did not understand the hat's obsession with their alleged missed appointment.

"You're an insufferable git," huffed the hat. "And because of that, I'm putting you in Gryffindor."

The last word the hat spoke echoed throughout the circular room, as if it had been shouted aloud. Suddenly, the headmistress plucked the hat off of Rory's head and returned it to the shelf.

"What was that?" Rory asked. "There's a hat that can read minds?! How?"

"Magic," replied the headmistress.

"Why did it keep saying I was late?"

McGonagall blinked. "You were a minute early."

"Yes, but-"

"We have a lot to accomplish this morning, so I would appreciate if you could keep the interruptions to a minimum, Miss Jones."

Rory crossed her arms defiantly, but she nodded anyway.

"You're in my old house," she commented. "As such, you will need a red school uniform. Luckily, we have extras we can give you."

Rory thought back to the witch in emerald-green robes reading through the name's of first years the night before. She could have sworn that the witch belonged to Slytherin. "But you were wearing green yesterday," Rory replied.

The headmistress's face grew stern at the interruption, but she replied anyway. "So were you. Speaking of which, we can send owls to your home to gather your clothes so long as you provide the address. If you have anyone to inform of your absence, we can send owls to them, too. I can provide you with a quill and also have a trunk you can use when the owls return with your clothing. I assume you don't have a wand?" the headmistress gestured to her twig.

Rory shook her head. _Twig=wand_ , she thought.

"That's alright," said McGonagall. "Ollivander is coming by later. He can find you one. I will fetch you your uniform now. Write any letters you must. I will be back in a few minutes." The headmistress exited the office.

Rory was unsure how to use a quill and parchment, so she unzipped her rucksaack and removed a pen and paper. She wrote two letters. The first was addressed to her boss.

 _Maria,_

 _I apologize for my lack of warning, but I must quit work at the restaurant.  
I decided to transfer schools yesterday, and I will not be able to work again until winter break.  
I will let you know when I have available hours. Good luck with the restaurant!_

 _Best,  
Rory Jones_

She addressed the second letter to her half brother.

 _Odi,_

 _I am transferring high schools. My new school not only offers multiple years of astronomy,  
but it also pays for my tuition! It is also a boarding school, so you no longer need to rent the apartment.  
Unfortunately, the school has no cell phone service, so I might contact you less frequently now.  
Please inform my old school that I have transferred. Good luck with the film!_

 _With Love,  
Rory_

As Rory signed the last letter, McGonagall strode into the circular office holding five red uniforms. Rory exchanged the letters for the uniforms, and the headmistress tied each of the letters to the legs of two owls. Rory trailed them with her olive eyes as they flew out the open window of the tower.

The headmistress sat at her desk. "Now, let's discuss your classes. You must take Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Herbology. You have the option to take Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, and Runes." Rory thought back to Isla, Debbi, and Tyler and automatically ruled out taking Care of Magical Creatures. Arithmancy sounded vaguely like math, so she decided it would be in her best interest to take it. She decided that if she wanted to catch up with her grade, she should probably limit her electives to two.

"What is a muggle?" Rory asked.

"A non-magical person," responded the headmistress. Rory thought that Muggle Studies would be an easier class, since she still was not convinced that she wasn't one.

"Can I take Arithmancy and muggle studies?" she asked.

The headmistress said she could. She also informed Rory that the Muggle Studies classes did not build off of one another, so Rory could start in her year.

"Are there proficiency exams for Arithmancy and Astronomy?"

McGonagall swished her wand and a stack of papers appeared on her desk. "Are you ready to take them now?"

Rory nodded and dragged her chair closer to the desk.

"This first test is last year's astronomy final for fourth years," McGonagall informed her. "It is currently 7:15. You may begin. You have an hour for each exam."

Apparently, the first four years of astronomy had covered a respectable amount of material. Fortunately, so had she. The test required knowledge about the names and locations various constellations, stars, galaxies, and nebulae. It also tested the knowledge types of galaxies, like spiral and disk galaxies. The most complicated calculation on the test used gravitational potential energy, which Rory had learned about the year prior. As she finished the exam half an hour early, she felt like she aced it.

The Arithmancy exam was easier than she had expected, too. She understood very little about the divine understanding gained from the calculations, but as it turned out, the exam was mostly testing an understanding of material learned in geometry, algebra, and trigonometry. Rory definitely had not aced the test, but she felt she earned a high enough grade to pass.

When she finished her exams, it was 8:30. McGonagall sent her to Ollivander, and an old white-haired wizard gave her a vine wood wand with dragon heartstring core. It worked perfectly on the first try, he said with a surprised tone. Rory could not understand why being correct was so rare for a wand professional. After she changed into the red uniform, she returned to the headmistress's office, where she received her class schedule and a school map.

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday  
9:30 am History of Magic 1: G/S Classroom 72  
10:35 am Charms 1: G/R Classroom 1A  
11:40 am Transfiguration 1: G/H Classroom 1B  
12:45 pm Potions 1: G/R Classroom 205  
10:00 pm Astronomy 5: G/R Astronomy Tower

Tuesday and Thursday  
8:30 am Herbology 1: G/S Greenhouses  
10:00 am Arithmancy 5: G/H Classroom 318  
11:30 am Defense Against the Dark Arts 1: G/S Classroom 104  
1:00 pm Muggle Studies 5: G/S Classroom 74

She was relieved when she saw Astronomy 5: G/R and Arithmancy 5: G/H on her schedule. At first, she did not understand the letters at the end of the class name, but then realized that they indicated which houses are in the class. Remembering Isla's complaint about being nervous for Arithmancy, she feared their combine Gryffindor and Hufflepuff class. She shrugged, reassuring herself that she probably would not have to sit with Isla. After thanking the headmistress and retrieving her rucksack, she scampered to the Great Hall to grab breakfast before the start of class.

As she walked through the pointed arch that led into the great hall, her eye caught Nate laughing with Fritz and other friends at the Slytherin table. She waved at them, and they looked up, but they did not wave back. She walked over to their table and set her bag on the bench, taking from it the borrowed green robe. Holding it out to Nate, she thanked him for lending it to her. He took it and opened his mouth as if he was about to respond when Fritz jumped in.

"Wow, Rory, I didn't know you felt like you were so much better than everyone else," he sneered, gesturing to her new uniform.

"What?" Rory asked, positive she had misheard him. After all, he had been nice last night. Did the color of her uniform change how people treated her _that_ much?. She heard unhappy grumbles from the other students at the table. She blinked a few times before facing Nate. "Can I sit with you?" she asked him

Nate's eyes were wide. He glanced at Fritz quickly and then looked down at his feet. "You should go sit with your new family," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the Gryffindor table while still managing to look at the ground. The venom in his voice was nearly tangible.

Rory looked at the table with the red tablecloth and noticed that there were only four students lingering. Of course, they had to be the rude students from the train. Rory's temper flared. Apparently the color of her uniform _did_ change things that much. She looked back at Nate. "You're being rude," she informed him. Her voice was a higher pitch than usual.

Nate glared up at her. "At least it isn't unexpected," he justified.

Rory's throat tightened. She seized her rucksack and stomped toward her new table. She tried to sit as far away from the four students from the train as she could, but as soon as she sat, the three slid down the bench to talk to her. The silver-haired girl introduced, "Hey! I'm Abigail. Are you a new student?" Rory nodded. "That's so cool! Rory, right?" Rory nodded again. She did not trust the girl's sudden kindness. "Well this is Fay." She gestured to the girl with red curly hair. "And this is Matt." She gestured to the boy with greased back, shoulder-length brown hair. He waved sheepishly. "And Jerry." The boy with the shaggy black hair jerked his chin toward Rory. "Can we help you find your first class?"

Rory's eyes were wide. The effect of her change in uniform was unfathomable. The students here were extremely shallow. When she wore green, they called her names and shooed her out of the compartment, but now that she wore their favorite color, the only insufferable characteristic of these gits was their insincerity. She glanced one last time at Nate and Fritz, who had resumed their laughter. "Uhhh... sure?" she agreed. She snatched a danish from the table and allowed the group to accompany her to Classroom 72.


	8. Day 1

"Welcome to a History of Magic," droned the transparent professor in the front of the room. Supposedly Professor Binns was a ghost, but Rory was still uncomfortable with the idea of ghosts. How could they exist? It wasn't logical.

Floating back and forth in the front of the room as if he was trying to pace, Binns continued "The first and most important concept you should grasp in this class is that the history is being written now. For the first lesson, you will find in the Daily Prophet an article about what is currently happening in the Auror Department of the Ministry of Magic. Write a 3-inch summary and turn it in." Instantly, a newspaper appeared in front of every student. It was the odd newspaper she had seen on the train yesterday. Short videos replaced photographs. Rory rubbed her thumb against what she assumed was a flexible LCD screen, but she felt paper. She retracted her thumb only to notice that it was now smeared with ink. She shook her head, bewildered by the odd videos, but she decided she should finish the assignment before investigating it further.

Rory glanced through the paper, searching for a section titled Ministry or Politics or something similar. She flipped open to the Sports section, and in the first article there was a video of a person in an orange robe zooming through the sky on what looked like a broomstick.. She chuckled. Witches on flying broomsticks? Wasn't that a bit cliche? She started to turn the page when someone spoke, breaking the chilling silence of the classroom.

"Excuse me?" asked the girl on her right. Her eyes were wide and she was trembling, her short nut-brown hair shaking out from behind her small ears. "How do you do the assignment?" she whispered.

Rory hesitantly glanced up from her paper. She had not expected anyone to talk to her. Afterall, she was four years older than all of the other students in the room. Regardless, the girl had spoken to her, and at the very least, Rory could answer her question. "Do you know how to read a newspaper?" Rory asked. The girl shook her head. Rory flipped through her newspaper. "Do you see how there are multiple sections? Here's 'Sports.'" She pointed to with the flying broomstick.

"That's quidditch!" squealed the girl.

Rory nodded, committing the word to memory. "And this is 'World Events,'" she continued, flipping to a page on which there was a video of a man with a french-sounding name. The headline discussed the French magical government. Rory realized that there must be people who believed in magic all over the world.

"Do you think they'll win?" asked the girl.

Rory wasn't aware that there was a war between the French and British ministry from the headlines. She tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"The Chudley Cannons," said the girl. Rory tilted her head more. "The quidditch team? From the sports page."

Rory shook her head. "Sorry," she said, "I'm new to the world of magic."

"Really?" asked the girl. "I just assumed that you were held back for a really long time. I asked you for help because I thought you had done the assignment before."

"Nope. This is my first year here," said Rory, shaking her head. She flipped to another page. "Here is "Ministry Happenings,' which will have your information about what's happening in the British Ministry of Magic," she said, though she still wasn't entirely sure what the ministry was. She hoped that she could learn more from reading the assigned article, but in case context was not enough, she resolved to read about it later.

"Thanks!," whispered the girl. She flipped to that page in her newspaper and began reading the first article, dragging her finger underneath each line of text. "I'm not seeing anything about aurors!

Rory skimmed through the headlines. "It's the second article," she replied, pointing to the correct article. "I'm Rory, by the way."

"Jane," replied the girl, pointing to herself. "Thank you."

The article centered around budget cuts in the Auror Department, which apparently investigated dark magic. What exactly was dark magic? From all of the fantasy movies she'd seen, it was evil. Did that still apply here? Also, the ministry was responsible for all magical people in Britain, and the muggle government did not interfere with magical rights. After reading the article, she dipped her borrowed quill into an inkwell, and summarized the article. The quill felt loose and unfamiliar in her hand, but after a few sentences, the push and pull of the quill grew smoother and more familiar. In a matter of minutes, she had finished the assignment.

Rory rose and submitted her assignment on the front desk before finding professor Binns to ask about catching up with the fifth year course. Eventually, she persuaded the professor to proctor a multiple choice test covering all of the first year's material in three weeks. For the rest of class, Rory studied the history of the Ministry of Magic. It was founded in 1707 as the replacement for the Wizard's Council. In 1717, the ministry named three unforgivable curses, and by the 1990s, their use commanded a life sentence in Azkaban, the wizard prison.

When the bell rang, indicating that it was time to switch classes, she scurried off to Charms in Classroom 1A. She was the first student there, so she made a similar arrangement with the charms professor as she had made with Professor Binns, except instead of taking a multiple choice test, she would have to perform various charms. When she sat down in the second row, Jane pointedly sat next to her. During class, the two helped each other figure out how to hold their wands and cast a _lumos_ charm. This charm took almost an entire hour of playing with hand gestures, pronunciation, and emphasis before either of them successfully made their wands act like flashlights.

Transfiguration was weird. Apparently, it was the art of turning one object into another. The assignment today was to turn a silver thimble into a gold one. Rory thought that it sounded like alchemy, but by the end of class, she and Jane had learned how to change the color of small metal objects. When Rory took her pen out of her rucksack and managed to turn the tip of it purple, Jane giggled and tried to turn it pink at the same time Rory was trying to change the color back to the metallic silver it had been. The tip of the pen ended up looking like a tie-dyed silver, pink, and purple mess. Jane looked at it with so much awe that Rory decided to give it to her to keep.

The first Potions class was hands-off. The class was assigned to read a chapter in the textbook about the art of potions and the proper way to prepare ingredients like onion root and frog toes. Rory left class under the impression that Potions was some really convoluted mixture of chemistry and magic. She arranged with the professor to accelerate the course by attending additional lessons at 4:00 on Mondays and Wednesdays starting the next week.

By the time she had a lunch break, Rory was starving. As soon as she walked into the Great Hall, Abigail called her over to the far end of the Gryffindor table, where she and Fay were already sitting.

"Hi Rory!" Abigail greeted when Rory walked up to them

"Hi," responded Rory, removing her rucksack and sitting.

"Merlin! I love your hair!" said Fay.

"Thanks, I grew it myself," Rory quipped. Fay and Abigail exchanged a look.

"So how were your first classes?" asked Abigail, glancing at her nails.

"Good," Rory responded. She decided that if she were to make this conversation more interesting, she should tell them about the pen tip coloring incident."I met this girl during first block, and—"

"Isn't Professor Binns the worst?" interrupted Fay.

"Ugh, I know, right?" Responded Abigail. " He's so boring. Have you ever met anyone that boring, Rory?"

"Actually, last year I had a teacher that fell asleep in the middle of—"

"Oh look it's Matt and Jerry!" said Abigail. Wow, thought Rory, they really don't care to hear what I have to say. Great friends, they are.

Matt and Jerry sat across from Rory.

"Hi Rory, how was your first day?" asked Jerry.

Rory began responding, "It was pretty good. During Transfiguration—"

"We were just talking about Professor Binns. Isn't he so boring?" said Abigail.

Not as boring as this conversation, Rory thought. If this is how all of my conversations go, this is going to be a long school year. From out of the corner of her eye, Rory saw a skirmish in the entryway. She looked closer and noticed that Jane was involved. She decided to intervene. It was a great excuse to leave this boring conversation.

"I've got to go," she excused herself, slinging the rucksack over her shoulder and heading toward Jane. "Give it back!" Jane shouted toward a girl in a green cloak as she jumped at the girl's closed fist.

"No, It's mine now!" the girl responded, smiling. She had curly brown hair that reminded Rory of Fritz, and she was holding the multicolor pen up in the air.

Rory rested her hand on Jane's shoulder. "What's going on?" she asked, pointedly looking both girls in the eyes.

The girl with curly brown hair crossed her arms. "The Gryffindor is jealous of my pen," she sneered.

"Hey, I'm a Gryffindor. Watch what you say," commanded Rory. The girl opened her mouth as if to speak, but Rory quickly said, "Wow, I seem to have lost a pen just like that this morning in Transfiguration!" The girl holding the pen froze. "Would you mind returning it to me?" asked Rory.

The girl dropped the pen and ran away. Jane retrieved it from the ground.

Someone tisked from behind Rory. She turned around to find Fritz. He began slowly clapping as he approached,stopping about a meter away from her. "Wow, Rory. Are you really stealing pens from my little eleven-year-old sister?" he asked.

"It looks to me like she gave it up pretty willingly," jeered Rory.

Fritz exhaled sharply. "This must be a new low for Gryffindor," he said, turning on his heel and retreating to the Slytherin table.

Rory's eyes trailed him as she fumed. How dare he try to make her feel guilty for resolving the skirmish? She hadn't even threatened his sister, she just highlighted her dishonesty! When Fritz reached the table and presumably told Nate and friends what he had seen, they all turned to glare at Rory. She rolled her eyes and turned back to Jane. "Would you want to go study with me?"

Jane scrunched up her eyebrows and thought momentarily. "I don't want to study," she said. "I want to go watch the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Flying Lessons. Rory nodded and shrugged. "I'll see you at dinner though," added Jane. Rory smiled. At least she wouldn't have to sit with The Superficial Four.

Rory wound through the corridors until she reached the library. Finding an isolated table by the window, she sat and opened her Charms textbook. She had learned Accio and Alohomora before her stomach started rumbling and she decided to return to the Great Hall. When she arrive, Jane was already waiting, and she waved Rory over.

Rory felt awkward sitting in the middle of a group of eleven-year-olds, but she had to admit that the conversation was much more interesting. Over dinner, Rory paused her studying so that Jane could explain to her everything she had learned from observing the flying lesson. Once that was accomplish, she asked Rory, "What quidditch team do you support?"

"I have not learned any more about quidditch since this morning," Rory reminded her.

Jane shook her head with pity and proceeded to explain all of the rules to Rory, who thought the sport sounded overly complicated. She also wondered how much physical activity a sport of flying actually used, but didn't ask under the assumption that she would seem rude.

After dinner, Rory headed toward the Astronomy tower for her first lesson with her own grade. When she arrived, Abigail, Fay, Matt, and Jerry were waiting.

"I can't believe we missed you at dinner!" said Abigail. _Oh no, what a shame_ , thought Rory. Abigail added, "But it's so great that you're in Astronomy with us!"

"Yeah, it's too bad that we're already partnered up though," commented Fay.

"Sorry, it's too bad that we can't sit with you," said Matt.

Rory shrugged, not particularly upset by their supposed inability to sit with her. Because there was an odd number of Gryffindors enrolled in the course, but an even number of Ravenclaws, she sat by herself. However, this isolation didn't particularly bother her. She was in Astronomy, in her own element. This class was the reason she had decided to switch schools. She didn't switch for the friends or the food or the money. Well, maybe she did switch in part because tuition was free, but that was not her original reason for considering the school. She was here for Astronomy, and as she learned how to sketch a star chart, she dreamed about how much more she would understand about the universe at the end of the school year. There were so many questions to be answered, and if answering those questions meant she that she sat alone in her favorite subject, so be it.


	9. Hungry Hungry Hippo-crite

**September 8, 2015**

Rory sat beside a young girl in the back leather seat of a Ford Fiesta. The girl was laughing hard, and Rory knew that she felt like her stomach was about to burst from joy. The girl's twinkling eyes focused on the two figures in the front seat.

"Aren't you excited, though?" asked the voice of the figure in the passenger's seat. Her voice sounded like bells and calmed Rory instantly, and she had dark brown hair flowing over the edges of the seat.

"I'm so excited!" squealed the girl, auburn pigtails bouncing. Her face fell suddenly. "Do you think I'll be able to make friends?

A deep laugh echoed from the driver's seat, where a few patches of blond hair were visible above the headrest. "Honey, I've never known any girl to make friends faster."

The smile instantly returned to her face. "You're right. I'm going to meet so many new people! And they'll understand what I can do!" exclaimed the girl. Rory wondered what she meant by 'what I can do.' Could she mean magic?

"That's right sweetie," said the figure in the passenger's seat. Rory felt instantly calm again, and she wondered why this stranger's voice had such a pleasant effect on her. She was itching to see her face, but when the turned around to smile at the girl, the figure's face was missing. All defining features had been blurred, and for some reason, Rory felt an aching in her chest.

All of a sudden, she heard a terrible screeching noise. Screaming from the passenger seat. A sharp acceleration to the right. A flash of white light from the front of the vehicle. Screeching of brakes. A cracking sound. The sound of crumpling metal, breaking glass, more screams, and then silence. Everything went black.

Rory suddenly woke up sweating and gasping for air. She rubbed her eyes, but the dream replayed over and over again in her head. The vanished girl, the flash of light, the screams, the crumpling metal, and the blurred face of the woman in the passenger seat. Who was she? Why did Rory feel guilty for her missing features?

After a few minutes, Rory's heartbeat slowed and her mind quieted. The images of the accident dissolved into a large stone-walled room. A dust-filled light streamed in through a tall window. The familiar room housed twenty beds aligned neatly in a row, each covered in a red bedspread and snoozing students. There were trunks placed at the ends of each metal-framed bed and a small, wooden table at their sides, where students placed their glasses and wands as they dozed. She looked down at her bed and thought to herself how strange sleeping on a bed still was; until six days ago, when she arrived at the magical school called Hogwarts, she had not slept on a bed for approximately five years. While beds were undeniably more comfortable and should support sound sleep, she had to admit that her last few nights were restless; she kept having the recurring nightmare about the young girl in the back of a car.

When Rory finally caught her breath, she collected her books and walked to the Great Hall to study over breakfast. The hall was nearly empty except for ten Ravenclaw students who had likewise decided that studying over breakfast would be an effective use of their time.

Rory sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table, unzipped her bag, and sorted through her stack of books. On top was her unfinished copy of Sagan's _Cosmos_. She tossed it aside. Beneath it was her potions book. After attending her first private Potions lesson yesterday and creating a backfiring Anti-Coughing Potion-it induced coughing fits rather than stifling them-she realized that potion theory was much more important than her ability to follow instructions. Evidently, she had not added enough flobberworm mucus, reversing the result of the potion. However, she still did not understand why a reduced amount of the juice would reverse its effect, so she cracked open her potions textbook to the Flobberworm Theory section.

 _The flobberworm is a ten-inch, toothless brown worm,_ Rory read. _It eats vegetation, especially lettuce and cabbage. It is a fairly boring creature, with a Ministry of Magic Classification of only X. Flobberworm mucus is green and sticky and is used to thicken potions. Flobberworm mucus is a vital ingredient in the Anti-Coughing Potion. When too little is used, the solution produced is too thin to actively coat the back of the throat and allow for its magical healing properties to soak in._

Rory thought this made sense. If the potion wasn't thick enough, it would slowly drip down the throat and induce coughing. However, if it was sufficiently thick, it would stick to and heal the throat.

As Rory thought, a bell tolled so loudly that it shook the tables and benches around the Great Hall. Rory sighed. She knew that her peaceful studying was about to end. She flipped to the next page, which discussed the preparation of flobberworm mucus.

 _There are two ways to produce the needed amount of flobberworm mucus. The first way uses fresh flobberworms. These are flobberworms that have been stored for six weeks or fewer. These worms can be simply sliced and allowed to drain. The second way uses worms that have been stored for longer. These must be sliced multiple times and crushed because the longer flobberworms are stored, the more dehydrated their mucus becomes._

Rory decided that the school flobberworms must be over six weeks old because she had sliced her flobberworm and allowed it to drain, as the procedure had instructed, but still her potion lacked mucus. Next time, she would crush the flobberworms. As she turned the page, four people took seats around her. A hand reached over and shut her textbook.

"Hey, I was reading that!" Rory exclaimed, glaring up at the hand's owner. It was Abigail.

"It's too early for studying," Abigail moaned.

"And that's why it's Rory and not you who's about to crush the Slytherins in another debate," chimed Fay. Rory rolled her eyes. Since the first day of Muggle studies, she had been picking fights with the Slytherins. Well, she was really just picking fights with Nate. He always said the most naive and close-minded comments about muggle technology. It was both insulting and infuriating, so Rory had made it her goal to argue with him. To argue and win.

"Ugh. Are you talking about Muggle Studies again?" asked Jerry "That's such a dumb class."

Abigail glared. "Not as dumb as you are," she said, grabbing a muffin off the table and storming off to class.

"The class is pretty fun," Rory said, placing her Potions textbook in her bag.

"So are quidditch games," Matt countered. "There's one on Saturday. It'll be fun." Rory remembered the term 'quidditch' and thought back to the photo of the flying broomstick from the newspaper she viewed last week. Her face melted with awe momentarily before she realized that she would not be the one flying. She would be watching, and she had never been particularly fond of watching any sport. She prefered to participate.

"Maybe," she responded.

"But we're playing against Slytherin!" said Matt.

Rory twiddled her thumbs. There was that unending rivalry again, the one that could create or destroy friendships in the blink of an eye. "I don't know, Matt," she said. "I have a lot of studying to do, and while flying looks really fun, I'm not sure if I would enjoy watching it." Rory imagined zooming through the air. She was itching to try it. "Anyway, I should probably head to class." She stood, grabbed a danish, and left for Herbology."

The entire morning was a drag. In Herbology, Fritz's younger sister decided to charm clumps of dirt to chase Jane around the greenhouse, and she refused to say the counter spell until Rory walked over and commanded her to do so.

Arithmancy continued as usual. Rory sat next to Isla and tried to concentrate on the lesson despite the constant chatter. And at the end of the class, Rory once again agreed to meet with Isla after school in the library to help her learn the material she talked over. After all, teaching her should reinforce Rory's mastery of the subject.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Rory sat next to Jane who spent the class complaining about more pranks from Fritz's younger sister. After a week of class, Rory still was not sure what this class was about. The first year segment was just a history class that went over key points of the first and second Wizarding Wars. Rory was not sure how the history lesson would teach her defense against dark arts when she still did not know what dark arts were; the professor never explained them. Rory gathered that they were taboo from the tone of the lectures, but neither the professor nor the textbooks had embellished on the subject.

Muggle Studies was the last and most worthwhile class of the day. Today focussed on the Internet. On cue, after a twenty minute presentation of the Internet as a global communications network, Nate raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Graff?" asked the professor, sliding her glasses up on her nose.

"Why do muggles need this?" Nate questioned, pausing for a second to glance at Rory. "I mean, if I want to talk someone, I'll just find them and, you know, talk."

Before Rory could think of a sassy remark, the professor used Nate's remark as a segue. "What a great question," she commended. "Let's discover what the Internet can communicate that is so valuable to muggles." The professor _Accio_ ed tablets to each desk and snapped her fingers.

Instantly, several rings sounded from the bottom of Rory's bag. Blood rushed to her face as she ducked behind the desk, hurriedly unzipped her bag and searched for her phone. She felt the pressure of dozens of eyes on her neck, and as she emptied several books, she attempted to shrink even more behind her desk. She sighed with relief when she finally felt the cold plastic case of her phone between her grasping fingers. She placed it on her lap and straightened her posture, looking pointedly at the front of the classroom, hands folded. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Nate laughing. She felt the urge to punch him.

"Anyway," continued the professor, looking sternly at Rory, "you should all have muggle tablets in front of you that the house elves should have connected to the Internet. Your assignment is to 'surf the web' as the muggles say, and find out what is so powerful and intriguing about this network." Having finished her spiel, the professor turned and sat at the front desk.

Rory already understood the importance of the Internet, of course: transmission of information. Tons of it. She could lose herself in the Internet for hours if she used the correct databases. Only two years ago, she had spent eleven hours straight reading through archived copies of _Scientific American_. Rather than working on the assignment, she tried to casually glance at her phone.

She had received a whopping fifteen text messages and twenty emails. Unsurprisingly, all fifteen texts were from Odi.

 **9/1/2015 10:02 pm  
** _How was your day off?_

 **9/2/2015 12:17 pm  
** _Did you just send me snail mail? LAME_

 **9/2/2015 12:56 pm  
** _You're SWITCHING SCHOOLS?!  
_ _Are you mental?_

 **9/2/2015 12:57 pm  
** _Call me._

 **9/2/2015 12:57 pm  
** _Now._

 **9/2/2015 11:08 pm  
** _You were serious about the no  
_ _communication thing at this school._

 **9/4/2015 12:32 pm  
** _I just sent in the transfer forms._

 **9/5/2015 11:36 pm  
** _Call me._

 **9/6/2015 11:01 pm  
** _How's the new school?_

 **9/6/2015 11:15 pm  
** _What is the new school?_

 **9/5/2015 11:43 pm  
** _Where is the new school?_

 **9/6/2015 10:30 pm  
** _Does it have more physics?_

 **9/7/2015 11:36 am  
** _No longer renting the flat._

 **9/7/2015 10:52 pm  
** _You know what you should do when you're not studying? Call me._

 **9/8/2015 12:50 pm  
** _Hello?_

Nineteen of the emails were notifications about articles recently posted in _Scientific American, European Physical Society_ , and _IEEE Spectrum_. One was from Rory's boss, wishing her luck in her new school and asking about her winter break availability. Since Rory still did not know her winter break schedule, she decided to message Odi first.

 **9/8/2015 1:27 pm  
** _Hi. I just got connected  
_ _to the internet for a short  
_ _while. The new school has  
_ _seven years worth of  
_ _physics, isn't that great!_

Rory put her phone aside and turned on her tablet screen to start the assignment when she received a response.

 **9/8/2015 1:30 pm  
** _Cool. Call me._

 **9/8/2015 1:32 pm  
** _Can't. Class. How's work?_

 **9/8/2015 1:34 pm  
** _Fine. Why did you have to go to a  
_ _school seemingly in the middle of  
_ _nowhere?_

 **9/8/2015 1:37 pm  
** _Call you soon. Promise._

Just as Rory set down her phone once more, the professor asked for volunteers to share what they had found.

"I think Rory should go first," Nate sneered.

Rory shrugged and began to stand when the professor responded, "Thank you for volunteering Mr. Graft. What did you find?"

Nate stood, holding the tablet and showing it to the room. On his screen were several animated penguins carrying objects that looked like pompoms with eyes. Rory face-palmed. He was on Club Penguin of all places. There were hundreds of intellectual websites that the Internet made available, but no! Nate had to find the one intended to waste time. "I found that the Internet is a colossal waste of time," he said. "Within the first five minutes. I joined this game so that I could pretend to be a penguin and talk to strangers. But these strangers have no use to me. They do not provide valuable conversations, and therefore, the Internet is just another useless muggle toy used to waste time."

"That's because you're playing a game built for nine-year-olds," snapped Rory.

"Miss Jones, why don't you tell the class what you found," said the professor.

Rory had not prepared anything, and Nate's smirk warned her that he knew she had not done the assignment. She shrugged and picked up her phone, following one of her email links to an article about gravitational wave detection.

"People use the Internet to communicate knowledge," Rory argued. "This is an article about the gravitational waves that were recently detected. Muggles research the world around them, and publish their findings on the Internet so that more people can participate in the active seeking of knowledge."

She heard several fake coughs from the Slytherin side of the room, and she believed she heard the words "nerd" and "dork" passed around. Rory looked at Abigail, hoping that she would provide support, but she just tapped her fingers against the desk in anticipation of Rory's retort.

Rory shrugged. "The Internet _is_ just a waste of time if you're dull enough to treat it that way," she concluded and sat back down.

Abigail smiled at her, commending Rory for yet another battle won against the Slytherins. Rory's blood curdled. Abigail had refused to help her win, but she had no trouble congratulating her for it. Hypocrite.

As soon as the bell tolled to signal the end of class, people rapidly began evacuating the classroom. Rory approached the professor at the front desk.

"Excuse me?" she asked. The professor glanced up. "Could you by any chance keep the Internet up? My family doesn't really do the whole owl-post thing."

"I could," nodded the professor, "but you can't spend every class on your phone as you did today. Speaking of which, you should probably keep better track of your phone." She nodded in the direction of Rory's desk. Rory turned in time to see Nate slip her phone into his pocket.

She felt instantly like she had switched places with Jane. Of course, when Rory was sorted into Gryffindor, Nate refused to be her friend, but for some unknown reason, it was still okay for him to steal her phone?

She ran to her desk, haphazardly shoved her books inside her rucksack, and raced out of the room. She looked to her left, seeing nothing but chattering students walking away with books in hand. She looked to her right. Nate was there, leaning against the wall and scrolling through her phone. Rory stomped up to him.

"I believe that's mine," she said, holding out her hand to receive her phone.

Nate just high fived it. "Who's Odi?" he asked.

"None of your business," she said. She lunged for the phone, ripping it away from Nate's hand and stormed off down the hallway toward the library to study with Isla.

When she was about halfway there, she noticed a piece of parchment sticking out of her phone case. Hesitantly, she removed it. It had three lines of writing:

 _Fly_

 _Broom Closet 2_

 _Password: "For the win"_

She thought of Nate. His teasing and friendliness on the train. His glares the next morning. His arguments and glares since. Yes, Rory wanted to try flying, but not many people knew that. She had told Jane a few times, and she had told Matt this morning. Perhaps he overheard. The more pressing concern was the nature of this information. Was this just another Slytherin prank, or could she safely go to the broom closet and try flying?

As she pushed the heavy library doors open and saw Isla, peppy and boring as ever, she weighed the outcomes. If this were a prank, she risked being caught and sent to the headmistress, but punishment could do little harm to Rory. After all, Odi wouldn't know or care if she got into trouble. If it were a prank, she also risked using a faulty broom, but she figured that if she started flying close to the ground, she could test the broom's safety before trusting it at a dangerous elevation. In the end, she decided that she would try flying, prank or not.


	10. Free Fall

**September 14, 2015**

"I don't understand!" Rory groaned inwardly as she walked away from her private potions lesson the the Great Hall. Today, her lesson featured the preparation of an Anti-Spotting Potion. Ever since her first potions lesson, she had studied the ingredient preparation theory thoroughly before creating the potion, so obviously, she had brewed the Anti-Spotting Potion flawlessly. But something was still nagging her, yet another discrepancy between science and magic that just shouldn't be, and she was still trying to calculate where in the procedure that was. When she had approached the professor about it, he had looked at her perfect potion and laughed, refusing to listen to her questions. She remained curious and confused and, above all, frustrated. She attempted to resolve this frustration by mentally reviewing each step of the procedure.

 **1\. Pour half a jar of of Crazyberry Vinegar into the cauldron.**

There was nothing much to argue with in this step. Half a jar was approximately 25 mL. Crazyberry Vinegar was essentially acetic acid. And, according to her summer's light reading of a Chemistry textbook, if the potion was meant to be a type of face peal, it must include a buffer solution with a target pH of 3.1. With this knowledge, Rory could use the Henderson-Hasselbach equation to calculate how much of a dihydrogen phosphate salt ought to be added. She ran through the estimates in her head, decided that the potion would require around .59 grams of the conjugate base.

 **2\. In a separate container, add a meter of acromantula silk to a can of Bubble Juice. Extract the precipitate, and add it to the cauldron.**

Sometimes, Rory was thankful there were similarities between Potions and Chemistry, but it was instructions like these that made Rory's blood boil. Where chemistry included specific measurements in procedures, Potions used jars and bottles as units rather than concrete, scientific units. Was the amount of conjugate base that a meter of acromantula silk could retrieve from Bubble Juice regulated? Rory doubted it. Regulation would imply that the amount of base in the acromantula silk was constant due to a homogeneous or extremely well ordered string of silk. She did not know much about magical giant spiders, but she did know about...would they be called muggle spiders? Regardless, spider silk was a heterogeneous string of ceramic and polymeric sections. Rory could not imagine any creature, even a magical one, that could produce silk _that_ homogeneous. But this was not where her problems with the procedure for Anti-Spotting Potion ended.

 **3\. Stir the solution anticlockwise while adding in 20 hippogryph hairs and the mucous of three regulation-sized flobberworms.**

Rory had no understanding of the purpose of the hippogryph hairs. If this potion was anything like muggle acne creams, the low pH of the potion should be sufficient for decreasing acne. But if the potion already worked without hippogryph hairs, why were the hairs added? Were they preservatives? Did they perfect the potion and make i foolproof in some magic, unknown way? Rory was not sure, and she doubted her textbook would tell her. She resented the textbook. And the professor.

"Rory!" shouted a voice from the far end of the stone-walled corridor, startling her out of her thoughts. She squinted in the direction of the voice, where there was a tuft of curly brown hair over a very angry face. Rory knew that this anger was likely pointed toward her. Afterall, she had placed a _Silencio_ charm on his younger sister this morning when she refused to stop calling Jane rude names such as "dummy," "dimwit," and "blood traitor." Rory still was not sure what the last of these names meant, but she understood that it was rude and she had no remorse for charming Fritz's sister into allowing her a peaceful Transfiguration lesson.

She did her best to express concern for the person who had automatically rejected her when she changed from wearing green to red, the older brother of her only friend's enemy. "Hi, Fritz. Is everything okay?" Her voice came out robotically, and she mentally kicked herself for her poor acting skills. She decided that while her lying skills had been bad on the train, they were definitely better then than now. This bothered her. She added acting onto her very long list of skills to improve.

Fritz came to a halt a meter away from her. "Everything is splendid," His voice was cold and laced with sarcasm. "Would you like to explain to me, Hemmings, why you used a charm on my dearest sister?!

Rory was not phased by the question. "She deserved it," she huffed. "She was being rude and I needed to study."

Fritz's eyes glinted with anger, but his left eyebrow also shot up expectantly. Rory was not sure what she had forgotten to say, if anything, until Fritz responded, "so Jones isn't your real last name? You weren't phased at all when I called you Hemmings."

 _What?_ Rory thought. She ran through the last part of the conversation, realizing that Fritz had indeed called her Hemmings and she had not reacted. She shook her head, trying to remember what her last name was before she was in Odi's care. Was it actually Hemmings? Is that why she didn't react? Regardless, she couldn't let Fritz win this conversation. Not when he was being so inexcusably accosting. "I don't know what you're talking about," Rory said haughtily. "Jones _is_ my real last name. Why would you even call me Hemmings?"

Fritz crossed his arms and leaned against the stone wall. He shrugged in they way that movie characters do when committing blackmail. "I could answer your question… if you stop coming between my sister and Jane."

Rory thought this was a strange mode of blackmail.

Rory thought about Jane, how young and innocent she seemed. And then she thought about Fritz's sister, the obvious bully. Rory did not want to leave Jane unprotected, and clearly, Jane took priority over knowing how Fritz knew about her last name, right?

It wasn't until Rory opened her mouth to reject Fritz's offer that she realized how much she longed for this answer. Ever since the Sorting Hat's strange remarks about arriving late, Rory had been itching to know what it meant. She already did the math several times in her head, and the accident that killed her parents was only two weeks before the Sorting Ceremony of 2012. Rory at first wondered if her name change prevented her from knowing about the school, but since it happened so close to the first day of school, and she doubted that the school would procrastinate sending any letters until _that_ late, she decided that for some reason or another, the school had forgotten to send correspondence. And now Fritz was here in front of her, knowing something she didn't. Rory could take the bate, ditch Jane, and ask him for the answer, or she could ask McGonagall during their next appointment after Rory's first exams. Rory thought this was probably the more compassionate and rational plan.

Instead of speaking, Rory just shook her head, suddenly unable to refuse Fritz's proposition aloud. Fritz quickly turned on his heal and stomped away down the hall, leaving Rory alone in the hallway, more frustrated than ever.

Rory's head raced with thoughts that bounced between her frustration with potions, her frustration with Jane and Fritz's sister, and her frustration with not knowing why Fritz used her old last name. As she approached the entrance of the Great Hall, she paused. Anticipation of another run-in with the Superficial Four, Fritz's sister and Jane, or Nate's glaring friends filled her with dread. She _ought_ to go to dinner now, where she risked contacting all of these groups, or...

Rory tore off in the direction opposite of the Great Hall, out the vast double doors of Hogwarts. She ran across the quidditch pitch, the overgrown grass sliced at her ankles, but Rory didn't care at this point; running felt amazing what with the wind rushing at her face. She felt free for the first time since hopping on the Hogwarts Express, and she imagined that flying would only improve her mood.

When she finally reached the old wooden shack at the far end of the field labelled with a large painted number 2, Rory stopped and pulled at the door. It didn't budge, so she took the crumpled note out of her pocket.

 _Fly_

 _Broom Closet 2_

 _Password: "For the win"_

Rory rolled her eyes. The password was extremely Slytherin. "For the win," she said flatly. She heard a click of the lock opening. She tried the door again, and it swung open. Inside the shack were arranged seven brooms on seven different hangers, each with a cubby above it holding green quidditch robes. Above the fourth cubby was an orange post-it note. _This one_ , it read. She removed the post-it to reveal another post-it underneath. Rory wondered what else Nate had written, but she found the note blank. She took a pen out of her backpack and scrawled "Thank you very much," before replacing the broom with her backpack and walking to the empty, grassy field.

She thought back to what Jane had told her at dinner on her first day about the flying lesson she had watched. _The students were lined up and told to say "up,"_ Jne had explained. Rory carefully placed the broom on the ground and outstretched her arm over it.

"Up," she commanded. The broom slowly but gracefully rose to her hand. That was odd. Jane had told Rory that most brooms either shot up violently or rolled around on the floor in that first year lesson. Rory wondered why her command caused Nate's broom to rise so slowly. Regardless, she had used magic to put a broom in her hand.

Rory remembered the next part of Jane's summary in which the first years sat on the brooms and kicked off the ground. Likewise, she sat on the broom and kicked off the ground lightly, expecting to fly up and away from the ground, but instead of flying into the sky, she just did a little hop and slowly dropped to the ground. "Huh," Rory said. "That was anticlimactic." She tried to kick off the ground once more, but again she just slowly fell to the ground. This was disappointing. Rory had hoped to zoom around the sky by the end of the night, to feel free and alive, but if all she could do was slow her fall…

That's when she noticed the Astronomy Tower in the corner of her eye. A wide, mischievous smile spread across her face.

* * *

She jumped for the eighth time off of the all of the Astronomy Tower. Her hair whipped her face as the wind whooshed past her ears. Her heart raced as adrenaline pumped through her veins. She couldn't remember having ever felt so free.

As the grassy field beneath the Astronomy Tower grew closer, Rory's smile only grew. She spread out her arms, making herself as large as possible. Air gushed through her fingers and she began to laugh. Then, after a second of soaring through the air, Rory summoned the broom.

"Up!" she shouted. The broom zoomed upward from its place on the ground, and she grabbed it just in time to slow her fall and float downward to a graceful halt.

Her mind was no longer clouded with academic dilemmas and social anxiety. It was filled only with the crisp scent of the evening dew on the grass, the chirping of crickets from the Forbidden Forest, the beautiful shadows cast by the Hogwarts castle. She was free. Her mind was clear for the first time in weeks. In that moment, Rory decided two things:

1\. She needed to thank Nate profusely for lending her a broom

2\. She ought to fly more to restore the clarity found in a thrill.

Then, Rory chuckled; jumping off of the tower made her feel so free. It gave new meaning to the term "free fall"

Rory dropped the broom and darted back up to the Astronomy Tower.


	11. Study Group

**September 20, 2015**

Rory sat in the stands of the quidditch pitch, slouched over her potions textbook. Her hands were still shaking from the History of Magic and Transfiguration exams she had aced that morning, but she squinted at her books nonetheless. Afterall, her Potions exam was tomorrow morning, and she still felt uncomfortable with the preparation theory for some of the first year ingredients.

After her exams that morning, Rory had intended to study in the library; it was a Sunday and therefore, the library should have been empty. However, when Rory finally entered the library, it was packed with the entirety of Ravenclaw house, and the only seat open was the noisy one next to the door. Rory knew that the door traffic would too often distract her from her studies, so she abandoned the library for the top row of the quidditch stands. She tried to convince herself that she sat by the field because natural lighting helped her read efficiently and fresh air kept the mind active, but in reality, she was sick of sitting inside all day, and she was just as distracted as she would have been in the library.

As she flipped to a page in her Potions textbook that discussed dittany, she heard yelling from the pitch below. She peered over the top of her book to see a boy in green quidditch robes rolling around on the ground. She wondered what made him fall. Was he okay?

 _Focus!_ She scolded herself. _You have an exam tomorrow! Get back to work!_

She snapped her eyes back onto the open page of her textbook.

 _Dittany is a magical_ _healing herb and restorative_ , Rory read. _Its use makes fresh skin grow over a wound, and after application, the wound seems_ —

CRASH!

Rory jumped from the sound of another green-clad teen rolling into the base of the stands. _What are they doing?_ she wondered. She looked upwards at the other team members. They hovered high in the sky, even higher than the Astronomy Tower. In turn, each member dove towards the ground, reaching maximum speed before attempting to fly up at the last second. However, every time the teammates jerked their broomsticks suddenly upward, they spun wildly out of control and fell to the ground.

Rory stared at them for a few minutes, trying to understand the drill. It bothered her to no end. She could not figure out what force should have allowed them to change direction so quickly. Their brooms never touched the ground, so there was no normal force changing the broom's direction. Rory saw no rustle of grass beneath the quidditch players as they entered an upwards arc, so Rory ruled out the brooms exerting a gust of air to use air resistance to its advantage. Rory thought that maybe broomsticks ionized the air underneath it and hovered that way, but she decided that such behavior would be extremely energy inefficient. She shook her head. It was times like these that she thought magic was really stupid. How dare it defy her knowledge of physics!

Rory snapped her eyes back down to the textbook in front of her, holding the book higher in front of her face to hide from the distractions flying in front of her. _To prepare dittany, rip its leaves into small bits. Then, use a mortar and pestle to crush leaves into a paste before_ —

"AHHHHH" came a familiar yell as another member of the team dove toward the ground, attempted to jerk the broom upward, and spun wildly out of control. Rory's eyes trailed the sandy-haired boy as she thought.

Rory might not understand what force was allowing the broomstick to change direction—perhaps magic was its own force— but she did understand that the way the team members flew did not reflect an understanding of the conservation of momentum. If the team members were to maintain control of their broom, they should extend their arms at the bottom of the dive to store extra momentum. When they changed direction, they could pull their arms back to their bodies to use that extra momentum gain speed.

Rory blinked, realizing that the sandy-haired boy was returning her gaze, and she suddenly realized that it was Nate.

 _Quick, look at your book!_ she commanded herself. _Remember what happened last time you interacted with him_?

Rory thought back to two days ago, when she had approached Nate in the Great Hall to thank him for lending her a broom. Instead of accepting her thanks, he and his friends answered Rory's gratitude with glares and insults.

Rory huffed and turned in her textbook to the section about the preparation of lionfish spines.

 _Lionfish are sea creatures that have extremely long and separated spines. They have healing properties and thus are used in healing potions such as_ —

"Rory!" sounded Nate's voice. Rory ignored it, her anger from a few days ago now fresh in her mind.

 _Used in healing potions such as the Wiggenweld Potion. It is also used in magical herbicides. To prepare lionfish spines_ —

"Rory, what are you doing at the Slytherin quidditch practice? Are you spying?" Nate's voice was lighthearted and teasing. Rory frowned at her textbook. She couldn't keep up. Around his green-robed buddies, he always glared at her in disgust, but now that Rory wasn't wearing the week-day red uniform, he thought he could openly tease her?

Rory was not okay with this turnaround, so she glared at the page of her textbook. _To prepare lionfish spines, crush them into a powder with a mortar and pestle. An inch of lionfish spine should produce seven ounces of_ —

"Hey, whatcha doin' here, Ror?" he asked, more serious now. Since when did he decide that it was okay to call her by a nickname?

Rory shrugged. "Studying," she muttered, refusing to glance up from her book.

"Nate, why aren't you practicing?" asked a higher voice Rory did not recognize. Rory glanced up at the girl hovering slightly above Nate. She had long, silver hair that matched the captain's badge on her green quidditch robes. "What's _she_ doing here?" she sneered. "She better not be a lousy Gryffindor." The girl turned to glare at Rory. "If you are here to spy on us, you need to leave."

 _Ugh not the stupid house thing again_ , thought Rory. _I just need somewhere to study! Why can't that be here?"_

Nate opened his mouth as if to respond that yes, Rory was a lousy Gryffindor here to spy on the enemy team, but Rory cut him off before he put her study space at jeopardy.

"I think I know how to help your players stop crashing," said Rory.

Both Nate's and the captain's eyebrows shot upwards. Neither spoke for a minute, until finally the captain broke the silence by accusing, "how do I know that you're trying to sabotage the team?"

Rory shrugged. "I just want to study. How about this: if what I say hurts the team, I'll leave. Else, I reserve the right to study here."

The captain thought for a minute. Eventually, she declared that yes, the deal was fair, and she summoned the rest of the team toward the bleachers. Rory shoved her textbook into her rucksack and approached the side of the front of the stands. She gulped. She hadn't exactly planned what to say.

When all seven team members hovered in front of the bleachers, Rory closed her eyes and took a deep breath, summoning her Gryffindor side. She should not appear nervous in front of a whole team of students from the enemy house. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat.

"At the bottom of your dives, you're not controlling your momentum effectively," she shouted.

"You don't say," mumbled one of the team members.

"Get to the point," muttered another. Rory glared. The team members were rather rude.

"Our what?" asked the captain.

"You know, momentum? They physical quantity of a moving object that is expressed by the product of the object's mass and velocity?"

Her explanation was met with blank stares.

She shifted on her feet. "When you reach the bottom of your dive, you need to spread out your arms," she said. "You can bring them back in after you have finished changing direction. You will have more control and you'll end up flying faster than before."

A team member with messy dark hair scoffed. "Why should we trust you?" he sneered. "Are you even in Slytherin?"

Rory just shrugged and responded, "just try it," before returning to her seat in the top row of the stands. She retrieved her textbook from her bag and opened it to a page about horklump Juice. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched the team, praying to Merlin that they would correctly employ her advice and let her study undisturbed.

"I'll go first," Nate yelled to the team captain. He entered the dive, speeding straight down until he was a meter from the ground. As he jerked the broom upwards, he spread his arms. After righting himself, he drew in his arms and zoomed toward the far end of the field. Rory saw the captain nodded approvingly at him before Rory drew her focus back to her textbook.

 _A horklump is a magical creature that resembles a mushroom. Its juice is used in various healing potions such as..._

* * *

Rory yawned as the splintered green door to Broom Closet 2 creaked open. As she returned Nate's broom to its holder beneath the post-it note. She lazily glanced at the note. It had not changed since she scrawled her thanks. Rory shrugged and swung the door shut.

Rory trudged up the stairs of the Hogwarts entrance, exhaustion soaking each painstaking step. The only thought that kept her climbing the stairs and weaving through the labyrinth of the Hogwarts corridors was the image of her fluffy red bed that awaited her in Gryffindor Tower. She really needed sleep. All of her energy had been completely spent of her two exams, intense afternoon studying, and learning to fly. If it weren't for her Potions exam tomorrow, Rory guessed that she could sleep all day. Sadly, she had her exam the next morning, so she could only afford nine hours of sleep.

When Rory, eyed half closed, finally reached the portrait guarding Gryffindor Tower, she muttered "flibbertigibbet."

The portrait swung open and exclaimed, "finally! I've been waiting for hours!"

Rory blinked. Since when did the portrait wait for her? Since when did it talk to her? "Excuse me?" asked Rory.

"I haven't done my Arithmancy homework yet! I'm totally doomed! You need to help me," demanded the portrait.

Rory blinked again. _Since when does the portrait have Arithmancy homework?_ she wondered, half asleep.

Then, from behind the open portrait, Isla emerged.

Rory sighed. "I'm going to sleep," she stated. Rory stepped toward the entrance to the common room. Isla pouted, staring at Rory with wide, puppy-dog eyes that wrenched at Rory's heart. If Rory were honest with herself, she had to admit that Isla was not that bad. Sure, she was too peppy, and she bounced way too much, but she was a loyal study partner. And Rory was starving for friends. She could not justify abandoning the girl in crisis. "I guess just this once, I can help you," conceded Rory. A wide, sparkling smile instantly plastered Isla's face. The girl started bouncing on the balls of her feet and squealed "thank you!"

Rory shook her head. "Only for an hour," she amended.

Isla nodded and followed Rory into the common room. The two girls planted themselves on the red, leather sofa and spread their Arithmancy books on the adjacent redwood coffee table.

Three hours and infinite frustration later, Rory's head finally hit her pillow as her thoughts faded into nothingness.


	12. Drifting

**October 11, 2015**

Rory floated somewhere in the zone between consciousness and sleep. Although she had closed her eyes a mere half an hour earlier, her body had already grown numb to the sense of being. She tried to access the part of her brain that kept track of where she was. It seemed that position should be tightly tied to touch, but as she tried to figure out what it was she felt, she realized that she had lost awareness of her arms intertwined across her chest and she could no longer process the unforgiving wooden bench wedged behind her back. She focussed harder on that feeling, or rather lack thereof, that should have tied her to a point in space. It was not there. This should have been disconcerting, the sense of being nowhere, but it felt almost familiar.

 _Shouldn't it bother me to not feel where I am?_ _To not feel like I am?_ Rory asked herself. _Why is this so normal?_

Rory heard a wooden door creak open behind her as another student walked through the passageway into the corridor Rory currently occupied. She wondered if the student noticed her dozing.

 _What's the student's reaction?_ Rory wondered.

Rory moved her eyes around behind her eyelids, slowly becoming conscious of the morphing green and red pattern made by the sun shining onto her eyelids through an adjacent window. She could open her eyes if she wanted to. Maybe she should. She could open her eyes, let the light flood in, regain the sense of touch that would tie her down to this place and time. Or she could just not. At the moment, not opening her eyes seemed like the more favorable option.

 _What if people think you are weird for napping here?_ she asked herself. _Maybe you should open your eyes and make sure the student isn't judging you. Afterall, it could be a Slytherin who wants to spread rumors about you. Or worse yet, it could be someone in your own house!_

She felt a sense of dread fill her as she considering opening her eyes. She wasn't ready to be yanked back into reality. She wanted to rest here in peace for a few more minutes. The juvenile thought "if you can't see the student, the student can't see you," skipped through her thoughts. Rory smiled at how silly this thought was. This was definitely an instance in which closing her eyes would not prevent another student from seeing her. Rory wondered what would happen if she opened her eyes. Would she see the student? Would she suddenly regain that sense of being that she had apparently lost? Would she suddenly feel disoriented and out of place?

 _You can't even prove that you're in this passageway,_ she reminded herself. _If you don't know your position, you don't have one. So the student can't know you're here._

Rory thought about this. Sure, there was no way to prove that the student noticed her unless she opened her eyes, but if she opened her eyes, Rory would know where she was, and therefore she would have a position and the student could notice her. Observing her position would change how her position was registered.

The taps of the student's footsteps faded somewhere off to Rory's right. She exhaled, not realizing until then that she had been holding her breath. Rory relaxed as she zoned in again on her sense of nowhereness.

 _Shhhhhhhh_ rushed the blood in her ears, lulling her even deeper into sleep's warm embrace. Images rushed into her head. The blur of the school grounds as she flew through the quidditch pitch, Jane in her Quidditch jersey. She thought more about the missing sense of being, Nate's addicting smile followed by an image of his glare. Ugh, that glare. She didn't know how to interact with him anymore, never sure which version of him she'd encounter. She did NOT want to decypher that one right now.

Rory's thoughts drifted back to her sense of nothingness. She sensed no fixed position in space. While she remembered going to nap on this bench outside of the Muggle Studies room so that she could use its Internet access when she awoke, she slowly began to doubt that this event actually happened. She could still be on the bench, but maybe she only dreamed about going to nap on the bench. She could just as well be back in her bed in the Gryffindor common room, looking at the long day ahead of her. She could be herself from three weeks before, when she pulled an all-nighter with Isla and slept through her first exam. It was very plausible that a night like that would lead to dreams about wanting to sleep on a bench instead of in her bed. In fact, with this sense of nothingness, it seemed equally possible that she had just returned from a long day's work at Maria's restaurant. That waitressing job was extraordinarily exhausting, after all.

Bzzzzzzz.

Weird. That almost felt like her cell phone. She must be back in the muggle world. In a minute she would open her eyes to the speckled ceiling of Odi's blue-clad flat, ready for her day off.

Bzzzzzzz.

Rory smiled half consciously. "Day off here I come!" she thought to herself. She slowly opened her eyes, and, as always, forgot about the light beating down on her face. Momentarily blinded, Rory quickly covered her eyes with her hand and rolled off of the bench to avoid reopening her eyes to the cruel sunrays. Her hands and knees collided with the cold stone floor, ruling out the option of being back in Odi's apartment, where the floor was carpeted.

"Oh right," she thought, recalling her last text exchange with her brother. "I guess that option's gone now." Rory's mind flashed back to the blue leather couch, glass coffee table, blue walls, blue curtains, the small kitchenette adjacent to the only bedroom. All were now gone permanently from her life, never to be seen by her eyes again. Moisture gathered in the corner of her right eye, and Rory quickly swiped it away. Dwelling on this loss was a stupid waste of time, and the emotional response she had to it barely made sense; why did it bother her so much now when she barely even registered the loss when it was proposed?

Bzzzzzzz.

Rory was grateful that the constant vibration of her cell phone interrupted her nostalgia for her old home. When her vision finally cleared, Rory confirmed her position in spacetime as outside of the Muggle Studies room as she had originally hypothesized. Her phone screen rested on top of her rucksack, inches from her face. The screen was alight with the name "Odi," running across it. A smile spread across Rory's face as she anticipated hearing the comforting tenor of her brother's voice for the first time in nearly two months. She hastily picked up her phone and sat back on her heals, swiping the bright green phone icon to the right hand of the screen.

"Rory's phone," she croaked, voice drowsy from her recent escapade into the subconscious.

"Hey Rory! It's Odi. Glad we could finally connect."

"Yeah, I'm sorry it's been so long."

"Rory, it's been what, five weeks since you said you'd call 'soon'? Does that word mean nothing to you anymore?"

Rory rolled her eyes at Odi even though he could not see. The left corner of her mouth tugged into a smile at her brother's familiar teasing. "Yeah, sorry about that, things have been hectic here."

"I see," murmured Odi.

"No, you hear," retorted Rory, her face relaxing into a full grin.

"Ha ha." Odi's sarcasm was anything but subtle. "How's this new school of yours going? Are you hangin' in there? Adjusting well?"

Rory's gut clenched as her mind drifted to her first exams, the jolt of panic she had after sleeping through her first Potions exam, the stress she suffered through in the headmistress's office the next day trying to reschedule her exam and promised over and over not to mess up a second time. Rory was trying to do the best by her promise. She had confronted Isla about replacing the last-minute homework help with strictly-scheduled, hour-long homework sessions on Sundays at 4:00 pm, and so far, Isla had conformed to Rory's demands. Rory's thoughts then shifted to the approaching exams two weeks from now, and how much studying she had to catch up on before she was prepared to take them. And then she thought about Nate's attitude, permanently in flux. So was she adjusting well? The pit in her stomach told her no. But coming here was a choice she'd made on a whim, and as far as Odi knew, she was still enthusiastic about her decision. She couldn't go back on it now, and she didn't want to worry her brother, so she lied.

"Y-yes," she stammered.

 _Good job,_ she chastised herself. _Real convincing._

"Astronomy is fun," she added. That was something normal, happy Rory would respond, right?

Without pos, Odi exclaimed "Glad to hear it! Do you know when your Christmas break starts? I was hoping to take off from work for a few weeks to spend time with my favorite sister."

 _He bought it?_ Rory questioned internally. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn't entirely believed that lying would work, and she was slightly disappointed that it did. "December the first," she responded aloud. "I'm glad I'll get to see you!" she exclaimed. "How's work going?"

Odi's laughter chimed like bells on the other end of the phone line. "Work is going pretty great. I just landed a second project and-"

Rory's attention shifted from her brother to the tap of steps approaching from farther down the corridor, in the direction she had heard the mysterious student's footsteps fade only minutes before. She could hear 3 distinct sets of steps, and familiar voices echoed off of the stone, reflective walls of the corridor.

"Where did you say she was?" asked a gruff voice that made Rory flinch. It sounded like Fritz. She did not want to deal with this right now.

"She's asleep on a bench over that way," came an unidentifiable, squeaky voice from farther down the hall.

This was just wonderful. Someone had noticed her napping on the bench. And they cared enough to alert Fritz, so the student probably had been a Slytherin. Really, what were the odds? Rory had wished that her drowsy suspicion of the student walking through the corridor had been paranoia. Evidently, it wasn't, and while the group could simply want to talk to her, they were Slytherins, and she was a Gryffindor. If the group held anything less than noble intentions, she wasn't in the mood to stick around and find out.

"Hey Odi," she said into her phone with no regard for whether Odi was in the middle of a sentence or at the story's end. She hadn't really been listening after all. "I think I have to go right now. Can I call you back soon?"

"Uh, sure, soon.." trailed Odi.

Rory squeezed her eyes shut. "Great! Talk to you later!" She quickly shut off her phone, not bothering to wait for him to bid her farewell. Rory yanked her rucksack off the floor and ducked inside the vacant Muggle Studies room behind her to wait for the group to pass.

As soon as she slid down against the inner wall of the classroom, she heard that same, unidentifiable, squeaky voice exclaim from the corridor, "She must have moved! I swear she was here!" Sneakily peering around the corner, Rory could tell that this voice belonged to a younger, shorter student she didn't recognize. The two others he was with, however, were all too familiar.

"You promised this would be a good time to terrorize her," chastised Fritz. "I'm not paying you for this."

"What?!" shouted the squeaky voice. "I did everything I was supposed to! Pay up!"

"C'mon Fritz, why do you even bother trying to do this anyway," groaned Nate. "Can't we leave her alone?"

 _It appears that today features the version of Nate who doesn't entirely hate me,_ thought Rory.

Fritz scoffed. "Not this again, Nate. She's a Gryffindor. We are Slytherin. You've got to stick with your house on this one. Furthermore, she's a _Hemmings_! Her father was in our house, and she dares to get sorted into frickin' Gryffindor?! She's a traitor. And don't even get me started on how she keeps preventing my sister from hanging out with Jane. And then she dares to intrude on Slytherin turf by sitting in on Quidditch practices?! The line has to be drawn somewhere. We gotta put an end to this."

 _Is sitting in on Quidditch really that much of a problem?_ wondered Rory. Her heart sank as she imagined no longer studying at the light-hearted practices. It was one of the few activities that she was still enjoying at this school, one of the few that she didn't think added any extra stress to her weekly schedule. She really didn't want to give that up.

Then she thought about the other accusations Fritz had made. Her father had been magical, and he had been sorted into Slytherin. That was, of course, only true if Fritz was correct about her old last name, and Rory still wasn't persuaded that she identified as anything but "Rory Jones."

And there was the issue between Jane and Frit's sister again. Was she really being too intrusive? Could Jane handle herself if Rory backed off? Rory's train of though was interrupted by Nate's retort.

"But not all Gryffindors are not necessarily bad to have around. You seem to think it would be perfectly fine for your sister to hang around Jane. I still don't understand what makes Rory any different. Besides, she has permission from the captain to sit in on practice. It's not our place to decide whether she can or cannot attend."

Rory mentally applauded Nate for speaking on her behalf in her alleged absence.

"Man, do you hear yourself? Haven't you learned anything since getting to this school? Gryffindors and Slytherins are never friends. Might as well rip the bandaid off now and backstab her first before she can do it to you, right?"

 _Nate_ rushed his hand through his hair in frustration, his eyes darting around the corridor furiously until they landed on Rory. Their eyes locked on each other for a minute. Rory heard a sharp intake of breath, and a second later, she realized that it was hers. She broke Nate's gaze to scoot farther back behind the wall, but she knew that this action was futile since he had already seen her. Her mind raced. What should she do next? She could continue hiding in the classroom, in which case the other group could either ignore her or enter the classroom. The privacy of the classroom did not bode well for her in that case. She could also leave the classroom, in which case she would unquestionably confront the group. While this confrontation seemed safer than a confrontation in an empty classroom, she forfeited her opportunity to avoid conflict completely. Before she could form a concrete decision, she heard Nate say, "Fritz, we can terrorize her a different time. This is obviously a dead end. Let's go."

Rory exhaled, relieved that Nate seemed relatively unswayed by his peers today. As the three sets of footsteps drifted off towards the right end of the corridor, Rory slumped back against the wall and retrieved her phone to call her brother back.


	13. A is for Astronomy (or Not)

**A/N: Hey fam, so yesterday I made some minor edits in previous chapters just to keep the plot goin' a lil better. So hopefully you're not confused by them? Idk. Happy summer.**

* * *

 **October 19, 2015**

Rory sat by herself at shiny black lab table in front of a classroom full of pairs of students all anxiously awaiting the return of their most recent Astronomy assignment. Rory tapped her fingers against her leg and glanced anxiously around the classroom. In the back row, she saw Fay whispering gossip into Abigail's ear. At an adjacent table, Matt sat drooling with one arm propping up his chin, and Jerry stared at the floor and twiddled his thumbs. There were a few other pairs of Gryffindors sprinkled in the back of the classroom, none of whom Rory knew particularly well. They all seemed to be distracted by something, be it by daydreaming, playing with their hands, or even inspecting recent purchases from the Hogsmeade joke shop. Directly behind Rory, composing the majority of the students in the front of the classroom, were several Ravenclaws, all of whom were restlessly staring straight at the professor in anticipation of receiving their most recent grades. The boy seated directly behind her glared at the front of the front of the classroom while simultaneously attempting to find the balance point of his quill by shimmying his two bronze fingers from the quill's ends toward the center. Rory's eyes temporarily caught with those of one Ravenclaw girl with a sharp nose and flaming red hair, only to have her nudge her chin in the direction of the silent professor as if to remind Rory to pay attention to whatever was happening in the front of the room. Rory obeyed the girl's command and looked up in time to see the professor place Rory's assignment face-down on the table.

"Not your best," tutted the professor before making her way to the next row of Ravenclaws. Rory's heart pounded and she felt blood rush to the surface of her cheeks, spreading to the tips of her ears. I know I've been a bit distracted lately, but the assignment couldn't have been that bad, could it? she asked herself. She glanced around her to make sure nobody was paying too close attention before peeling up the corner of her assignment off the table to reveal a horrendous red letter D. Rory slammed the corner of the paper back onto the table and her jaw dropped. A D? In astronomy? Had she really done that? Rory shook her head and lifted the corner of the paper again, slouching to obscure the burning red mark from her peers. She squinted at it, as if preventing it somehow from scorching her eyes. Indeed, when she looked at the paper, the poor mark was still there, and she hesitantly peered at the rest of the assignment to see where she lost so many points. Her heart sank as she noticed the plethora of arithmetic errors spoiling her work. There was an instance where she wrote that 2+1=2, and another where she wrote that nine cubed was twenty-seven. Flipping to the third page of the assignment, she noticed that she based an entire problem off of an unmarked incorrect result from the first part of the problem. She was disproportionately marked off for using it in the rest of the problem.

Rory took a deep breath. _Okay_ , she reassured herself. _This might not be as bad as you think. Some of these points can be rectified._ On the next page of the assignment, she had been marked off for writing an equivalent expression, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she realized that she could probably persuade the professor to restore her grade to either a high C or a low B.

After class, she brought her grading concerns to a professor who restored her grade as Rory had predicted. While it was still drastically below her standard for this class, and seeing as astronomy was truly the reason she had decided to attend this dreadful school, the small victory was short-lived. The minute she stepped outside of the classroom, Rory felt a sharp pain in her chest. Angry thoughts raced through her head.

 _You need to do better than this. How did you mess up this badly on arithmetic? Shouldn't you have mastered it by second grade? Wow, you have almost no friends. A few acquaintances in your house, Jane who is four years younger, Debbi who only keeps you around for your ability to boost her grades, and Nate who is under too much pressure from his house to really be your friend. It's pathetic. You're pathetic, and you're doing poorly in your most important class. You don't even deserve to be at this school. And on top of that, you don't even know who you are. Hemmings? Jones? Figure it out!_

Rory ferociously shook her head, trying desperately to quiet the criticisms coursing through her head.

 _You spend too much time thinking about that group of Slytherins, reminded a voice. You spend too much time talking to the Superficial Four, too. If you can't handle making smalltalk with them on top of achieving the grades you need in Astronomy, you should just become a social isolate. As if you aren't one already._

Rory reached her hands up to her head, beginning to pull at her auburn hair to bring herself back to sanity. After a minute the criticisms faded to reveal fast footsteps approaching her, as if someone was running toward her.

"Rory, Rory!" came a high-pitched squeal from the base of the spiral staircase in the Astronomy Tower. Rory dropped her hands and opened her eyes to a panting Jane a few steps below her.

"Jane, what's wrong?" croaked Rory.

"She's. Chasing. Me." Jane panted.

"Who's chasing you?" asked Rory, eyebrows scrunching together.

A second later, another set of footsteps clambered up the stairs. Rory peered down the stairs to find Fritz's sister. She sighed, recalling the week before when she overheard Fritz accusing her of preventing the two from hanging out. Rory figured that she might actually be interfering too much. Besides, she really didn't have time to be this social if she wasn't performing up to her standards in her classes. Rory closed her eyes and turned back to Jane. "Deal with it yourself," she commanded tersely before descending the stairs.

"What?!" shrieked Jane. "No! Come back!"

Rory ignored Jane's protests, passing Fritz's sister on her way out the door connecting the tower to the rest of the school. As the door to the stairwell creaked closed, Rory's stomach sank. Perhaps she was too rude to Jane in saying simply that she needed to deal with it herself. Rory probably just lost her only real friend here. Sure, that friend was a full four years younger than her, and she definitely did not seem to care about anything but quidditch, but now Rory probably was a true social isolate.

 _You deserve it,_ one of the voices said. Rory shook her head and shuffled toward the library. On her way, she passed Fritz and Nate. She carefully avoided eye contact and practically ran the rest of the way there. Once she finally found herself among stacks of books that reached over twice her height, she plopped down on the floor in an obscure, dusty corner and cracked open her Astronomy textbook. She was determined to resurrect her Astronomy grade, even if it meant studying all night.

After sixty pages of angstily glossing over the textbook, Rory's eyes drooped and her head plopped straight down into the crease of the pages.

* * *

Rory sat beside a young girl in the back leather seat of a Ford Fiesta. The girl was laughing hard, and she was focused on two figures in the front seat. Rory instantly recognized the dream as one she had a few weeks earlier. Rory quickly followed the young girl's gaze to the front seat. Yellow hair was visible above the black leather of the driver's seat, and in a cup holder between the front two seats, Rory spotted a brown wallet with a transparent pouch carrying a shiny driver's license that read "Jasper Hemmings." There was that surname again. Hemmings. Just like Fritz had said. The picture on the license featured a man with light hair and olive green eyes, a similar shade to that of the young girl's and Rory's eyes. The left hand of the driver was intertwined with the hand of the lady in the passenger seat, whose large blue eyes stared back adoringly at the young girl.

"Aren't you excited, though?" asked the lady in the passenger's seat. Her voice sounded like bells and calmed Rory instantly, and she had dark brown hair flowing over the edges of the seat.

"I'm so excited!" squealed the girl, auburn pigtails bouncing. Her face fell suddenly. "Do you think I'll be able to make friends?

A deep laugh echoed from the driver's seat and the driver glanced quickly toward the young girl, olive green eyes also filled with love for the child. Rory assumed that she must be sitting with a close knit family, and her heart ached for one of her own. Whoever was the young child next to her must be the real Hemmings child, not Rory. Clearly Fritz was wrong. The driver reassured, "honey, I've never known any girl to make friends faster."

The smile instantly returned to the young girl's face. And she bounced slightly, throwing her auburn pigtails around her cheeks. "You're right. I'm going to meet so many new people! And they'll all understand what I can do!" exclaimed the girl. Rory still wasn't certain what the girl could do, but something told her that the girl almost definitely had magical abilities.

The driver glanced back at his daughter and gave her a knowing nod.

The mother scrunched her eyebrows together. "That's right sweetie," she said uncertainly. The mother clearly wasn't as comfortable with magic as the father was. Rory wondered if this meant that the father was also magical, but the mother wasn't. Nonetheless, the woman's voice once again calmed Rory instantly, and she wondered why this stranger's voice had such a pleasant effect on her. She was itching to see her face, but when the turned around to smile at the girl, the figure's face was missing. All defining features had been blurred, and for some reason, Rory felt an aching in her chest.

All of a sudden, she heard a terrible screeching noise. Screaming from the passenger seat. A sharp acceleration to the right. A flash of white light from the front of the vehicle. Screeching of brakes. A cracking sound. The sound of crumpling metal, breaking glass, more screams, and then silence. Everything went black.

When Rory opened her eyes, she was in King's Cross, on the mysterious Platform 9 ¾ to be exact. She shook her head, disoriented, and heard a cry from her right. She glanced over to see the young girl, tears streaming down her face. The girl's upper arm was bleeding profusely, as if a chunk of skin had been suddenly sliced away by an invisible knife. Rory instinctively grasped her right upper arm, where a scar stretched from the bottom of her deltoid to the point of her elbow. She shook her head in disbelief. This was too weird.

The young girl was covered in dirt and scratches, and there was a certain emptiness now in her olive green eyes. Unsteady on her feat, the girl wobbled toward the wrought iron archway. Rory followed silently, remaining unnoticed by the little girl. The two carefully passed through to the other side into the main station. As soon as they passed through, there was screaming and shrieking, and some adults nearby asked the young girl. "Are you alright? What happened? What's your name?"

The young girl just looked up at them with empty eyes and fell to the ground. Someone phoned the ambulance, and after a few minutes, the young girl was carried out of the train station on a stretcher. The scene faded away.

* * *

Rory blinked her swollen eyes as she returned to consciousness. She traced her scarred arm with her left pinkie finger. The similarity between the girl's injury and her scar had to be completely coincidental. _What a weird dream_ , Rory thought, hoping to dismiss her disturbing recurring dream. However, for some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that the dream held more importance than she wanted to recognize. She considered the name again- Hemmings. Lifting her head from her Astronomy textbook, Rory realized that the old school yearbooks were on the bookshelves directly in front of her. She picked one up at random and flipped through to the section that featured students with surnames starting with the letter H. If there was no student with the last name Hemmings, and probability said that there wouldn't be, especially since she didn't know the years the last Hemmings' were in school, Rory would quit thinking about the dream. If not… she didn't really know what she would do.

To Rory's chagrin, the first moving photograph on the page of students with H surnames was a handsome blond boy with wide olive green eyes that matched his green robes. The caption read "Jasper Hemmings. Slytherin Prefect." Rory's vision blurred with tears. She shut the yearbook and dashed out of the library as quickly as she could.


	14. Girl Got Game

**November 6, 2015**

Rory sat with Isla at a circular table near the front doors of the library. She struggled to keep the exasperation out of her voice as she walked Isla through yet another Arithmancy assignment. Rory had completed the assignment hours ago, but she had promised to help Isla, so here she was. She couldn't keep her left leg from bouncing as her thoughts returned to studying for both her second year exams _and_ her next Astronomy test, which were all only a day away. She should be doing that now. She should be holing up with her textbooks and a bag of potato chips. She should be shutting off her phone and turning away from all distractions, studying with such unbelievable concentration that not even a broomstick zooming between her eyes and the textbooks strewn in front of her could interrupt her thoughts. She should be absorbing as much information as possible so she could kick butt tomorrow.

Instead, she had to listen to Isla complain some more.

"Lol I, like, don't get what we're doing here," Isla whined.

Rory stifled a groan. "If you were paying any attention in class, you'd know that this is Exaggerated Sign Arithmancy. It uses your star sign to produce an exaggerated prediction," Rory explained.

Isla just stared blankly and twirled her hair around her pinkie.

"Let's start with this problem," Rory said, pointing at the first problem. "Find the Exaggerated Sign prediction of a Sagittarius with a name including infinitely many characters."

Isla scrunched her eyebrows together. "Um, yeah, what do I do with that?"

Rory gritted her teeth together. "You have to look up the z value assigned to the zodiac sign and then use the series of Exaggerated Sign Arithmancy first."

Isla giggled. "I don't get it."

Rory inhaled deeply. She tried to keep her voice from shaking as she asked "Can you at least look up the z value?"

Isla shuffled through her notes, which were cluttered with doodles of stars and hearts and smiley faces. After three minutes of silence, she finally asked "Lol, is it .88137?"

Rory nodded. "And do you have the Exaggerated Sign series we are using in your notes?"

Another four minutes passed before Isla found it. It was an infinite sum of z^(2k+1)/(2k+1)!, which Rory knew simplified to sinh(z). Isla scribbled the formula and the number .88137 into her notes.

"Good. Now figure out what that equals and plug in z."

Isla stared blankly at the page for another 5 grueling minutes before Rory said, "I'll give you a hint. It's similar to the name of this kind of Arithmancy."

Isla shrugged and continued staring blankly.

The seconds ticked by ever so slowly until Rory got too impatient to wait for Isla to respond. "It's the hyperbolic sine of z."

Isla giggled. "I would've, like, never gotten that in like a bazillion years," she gushed as she wrote sinh(z). Then she dropped her pencil back onto the table. "Is the problem done yet?"

Rory shook her head. "Plug in z."

Isla wrote on her paper _sinh(.88137)_. And then she dropped her pencil on the table again.

"Do you know what the result is?" prompted Rory.

Isla smiled and batted her eyes at Rory, begging silently for the answer.

"It's approximately 1."

Isla wrote _1_ on her paper.

"And now you go to your textbook to see what exaggerated prediction that lines up with."

Isla stared at her textbook.

"It's on page 321."

Isla flipped to page 321 and continued staring.

"It's under #1."

Isla copied over the prediction under #1. _You will drop your fork during your next meal and everyone will judge you. They'll never ever talk to you again and they'll start making fun of everything you do. Your world will end._

Rory chuckled at the prediction. Isla's eyes widened in fear. _Figures_ , she thought. _If anyone were to take that kind of prediction seriously, it would be Isla_. "Don't worry," Rory said, "your name doesn't have infinitely many characters."

Isla nodded. Rory looked at her watch again. Rory had been helping Isla for an hour. She could finally leave without feeling guilty. "I have to go," Rory said.

Isla started to protest, but Rory cut her off by saying "Good luck on the remaining problems," as she ran out of the library. Rory considered where she should go to study for her approaching exams. She considered studying at the quidditch pitch, as she had been doing for quite some time now, but remembering Fritz's objection to her presence and realizing that she would probably more efficiently study elsewhere, she decided to head to the Astronomy Tower instead.

After 5 hours of studying for her second year exams, Rory's stomach began to rumble. Looking at her watch, she realized dinner was about to end. She needed to go to the Great Hall now if she had any hope of eating tonight. Her stomach twisted as she thought of the possibility of running into Jane, who hadn't spoken to her in almost a week, or running into the Slytherins or the Superficial Four, or even Isla, none of whom she felt like dealing with. Luckily, eating this late meant that she should avoid the bulk of these students.

Rory shoved her books in her rucksack and sped towards the Great Hall. However, as she walked in her stomach regained that sinking feeling. At the Ravenclaw table sat several students, and from afar, Rory recognized both the Superficial Four _and_ her favorite group of Slytherins. _Won't this be a fun meal_ , she thought. She sneaked to the Gryffindor table and began filling a plate with food. As she piled various fruits on her plate, she heard someone clear his throat close to her left ear. She jumped and swiveled quickly to face the mysterious throat-clearer, in the process launching several grapes off her plate and across the floor.

She was surprised when she saw who approached her; it was the Ravenclaw boy who sat behind her in Astronomy, the one who was trying to find the center of balance of his quill.

"Hello, I'm Quinn," he greeted. "It's Rory, right? Would you be interested in partaking in my social experiment?" He gestured toward the mix of Slytherins and Gryffindors at the Ravenclaw table.

"What's the experiment?" Rory wondered.

Quinn wiped his hands on his cloak. Rory noted that his palms must be sweaty. Was he nervous for some reason? "We're playing a game to scientifically determine which house is better," said Quinn.

Rory stole a glance at the Ravenclaw table. There was something wrong with this proposition that made Rory squirm; one house couldn't be superior to the other. It could be different than the other, and perhaps it could be better in certain aspects, but it couldn't defeat another in all realms of life. In fact, she believed that both present houses were obnoxious products of rivalry and overt social pressures. Besides, looking at Quinn, shuffling his feet, his eyes trained on the floor, Rory realized that he must have some other reason to bring the two houses together. Come to think of it, the whole premise of this experiment was too flawed to provide him with any real data, which he must know. Afterall, he _was_ in Ravenclaw; he, too, would recognize the experimental flaws. There _had_ to be more to his plan. "What's the real experiment?" she asked

Quinn's eyes flashed to hers. Rory assumed he was surprised that she saw through his lie so quickly, but how couldn't she? She _was_ almost sorted into Ravenclaw. Gesturing at his fellow Ravenclaws, Quinn explained, "we are trying to determine if it is possible to alleviate social pressures preventing your two houses from interacting through competition more social than quidditch."

Rory chuckled. Apparently she wasn't the only one who thought the rivalry was obnoxious. She instantly thought of Nate in the hallway two weeks ago, when he struggled to convince Fritz not to hold a grudge against her because she was a Gryffindor. She thought of Nate's anger at the beginning of the year when she was sorted into the wrong house. She thought back to the train ride when she wore a green shirt and suffered through stinging remarks from the Superficial Four. There was only one clear course of action here. "I'm in," she told Quinn.

Quinn smiled and restlessly ran his hands through his dark curls. "Alright. We are playing a weird kind of social perception game over at the Ravenclaw table, so just head over there when you get all of your food."

After piling some spinach-stuffed ravioli and salad impossibly high on her small plate Rory took a seat next to Abigail and across from Nate. Upon noticing her, Nate raised his eyebrows. "Rory, you weren't at quidditch practice today. What gives?"

Rory shuffled her feet and stared at the ground. "I was studying," she said.

Jerry snickered, "Gee Rory, why do you have to be such a Granger."

"Such a what?" puzzled Rory.

"A Granger is slang for someone who prioritizes school over the rest of her life," explained Quinn. Rory decided that he should be her new talking Encyclopedia.

"Of course school is the most important thing in my life," she told Jerry. "Why else would I be attending?"

"Compulsory education," responded Fritz. Rory was temporarily surprised that he knew the term. Immediately after she thought this, she decided that she should have known better; Fritz wasn't dumb, he just wouldn't express his knowledge unless he could use it against a Gryffindor.

Rory glanced at Nate. He arched one eyebrow at her. "You were just studying? Don't you usually do that at practice?" he asked.

Rory shrugged.

"It has nothing to do with anything else, does it?" he asked. Rory knew that he was alluding to the hallway incident two weeks ago, but Rory chose to ignore him and just shrugged again in response.

Nate's eyebrows scrunched together. He looked ready to discuss the subject more, but to Rory's relief, Quinn began explaining the game.

"The first test involves a game in which there are two teams: a purple team and a silver team. These teams are assigned through shuffled cards. We will play three rounds of this game. Whoever the leader of the purple team is has to name all of the people on his or her team, and he or she is given a card with two highlighted names; one is the seer, and the other is a silver team member. The seer on the purple team knows three of the silver team members. However, the seer cannot reveal the names of the silver members. The goal of the silver team is to convince the purple team that at least one of its members is purple, and the goal of the purple team is to figure out who isn't actually on the purple team. There are five people on the purple team. There are four people on the silver team. Is everything clear?"

Abigail twirled a finger through her dark hair and asked, "how do we convince you who is better. Is the "better" house better at lying, or worse?"

"Yeah," agreed Jerry. "If it's to see who the better liars are this task is skewed to favor the snakes."

"One would argue that the morally superior house is less accustomed to lying," added Fay.

"Others would argue that the better house is the one that isn't so arrogant to think it is already morally superior to the other," warned Hailey, another Slytherin seated at the table. Rory hadn't talked with her much. The girl had a small frame and bright eyes, and if it weren't for the long silver braid, Rory would have never recognized her as the intimidating captain of the Slytherin quidditch team without her broom.

Hailey's comment sparked bickering between the students seated around the Ravenclaw table. The Gryffindors were stuck on defending their moral superiority, claiming that the Slytherins' divisive retorts were only further proof, and the Slytherins clung to the argument that Gryffindor arrogance made humbled Slytherins the superior house. To Rory, both houses were overconfident, fueled by stereotyping that naturally occurred when eleven-year-olds who were already too alike were isolated from interaction with other personalities for four years.

"Alright, alright!" shouted Quinn. The room was instantly quiet. "You are judged by how well you do given your house," he said. The answer was vague enough to please everyone. Rory smiled, knowing that Quinn was improvising. "Now is everyone good?" he asked.

Abigail muttered something about Slytherins and lacking morals, so Rory "accidentally" stomped on her foot. Quinn passed out team the team assignments.

"Look at your card," he said. "It should say a color, and if you are a leader or a seer, your card will highlight for you the information you should have."

Rory wondered what Quinn meant. Were the cards enchanted? They looked like normal sheets of paper. Rory discretely flipped over her card. It was purple. When she glanced up at the other students, she noticed that Matt and Fay were taking longer to look at their cards than others; they must have the special information cards. She also noticed that all the Slytherins were smirking, indicating that they were all on the silver team. _Great_ , she thought, _way to enforce that stereotype, Quinn._

Rory watched the first round play out. It went by quickly, the Gryffindors' natural suspicion of the Slytherins unchallenged. Within two minutes, Matt successfully named all five Gryffindors as members of the purple team. Pumpkin pasties appeared in front of all of the Gryffindors, since they were all on the winning team.

Quinn redistributed the cards. When Rory checked her card, it was again purple, but it also said "seer" in shining letters, and it featured a map of the table. Three names were highlighted: Fritz, Abigail, and Alex, the fourth Slytherin. _Interesting_ , thought Rory. _Now he's mixing up the teams_. She noticed that Hailey also took too long to read her card. Hailey must be the leader of the purple team. As soon as the game commenced, Rory tried to explicitly state her information, but she found that her mouth was magically glued shut. The words "the seer cannot reveal the names of the silver members" reverberated through Rory's head.

After discovering that words no longer worked, Rory stared ardently at Hailey. The girl's eyes were wide as she glanced around the table. Finally, her eyes darted between Rory and Nate. _So that's how this works_ , thought Rory. _The fourth spy is the one listed on the leader's card!_ The next time her eyes met Hailey's, Rory winked. Hailey's eyebrows shot up, and Rory meaningfully glanced at Abigail.

"Is Abigail silver?" she asked. Rory nodded.

Abigail said, "no?"

Hailey tutted and refocused on Rory. Rory shot meaningful looks at the other Slytherins. Hailey lifted one eyebrow. "Really? All of them? Again?" Rory nodded, and Hailey proceeded to name all of the purple team members.

When the materialization of toffees confirmed that the purple team won yet another round, Abigail huffed, "I told you I'd be bad at lying; I'm a Gryffindor!" All of the Slytherins, Rory, and Quinn glared at her. The only people who seemed to accept the comment were members of the Superficial Four.

"You are aware that as a silver team member, your goal was to convince her that you were innocent, right?" asked Alex.

Abigail shrugged. "I wouldn't ever really want the bad side to win, though."

"Who said silver was bad?" asked Quinn.

Abigail looked at him as if he had six thousand heads. "Of course they're evil. They are predominantly Slytherin."

Once more, Quinn redistributed the cards. Rory lifted her card, shocked to see silver shining back at her. Rory's mind raced. What game should she play? Should she pretend to be the oh-so-righteous Gryffindor who could not tell a lie, or was she in it to win it? The first option seemed wrong to her, as it would defy her competitive nature to give up on a task just because her peers wanted her to.

Rory quickly returned the card to the table, and observed Alex and Abigail staring at their cards suspiciously long. When the round started, Abigail glanced between Rory and Jerry. Remembering that Hailey had done the same thing in the previous round as she tried to determine whether she could trust either Rory or Nate, Rory decided that she must be the silver team member listed on Abigail's purple leader card, and winked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alex give her a thumbs-up. Abigail looked confused. When Alex looked meaningfully toward Fritz, Hailey, and Nate, Rory mimicked him by glancing meaningfully at the same members. If she was going to win, she had to build Abigail's confusion over who to trust.

Both she and Alex had now provided the same valid information, and Rory was pretty confident that between a corrupt Gryffindor and an honest Slytherin, Abigail would choose the former. Rory waved at Abigail and glanced meaningfully at Alex, her heartbeat increasing with every false gesture she made. Alex angrily shook his head and glared toward Rory, who did her best to look offended. She put her hand over her heart and shook her head in an attempt to look as sincere as possible. She hoped that her doing this didn't draw any attention to her racing heartbeat. Looking down at her hand for a moment, she realized that her heart was pounding so hard that she could virtually see the adrenaline pulsing through her veins.

Rory and Alex continued fighting in this manner for a few minutes. Finally, Abigail broke the silent fight by saying, "The purple team includes me, Fay, Jerry, Matt, and…"

She paused to assess the faces of Alex and Rory one last time before saying "Rory."

Rory exhaled breath that she didn't realize she was holding as a wide smile spread to her hears. Glancing around the table, she saw smirk of approval on the faces of all of the Slytherins-even Fritz looked impressed despite his obvious hatred for her.

Quinn shook his head at Abigail. "No," he said. "I'm sorry, but Alex was the last purple team member."

"What?!" shrieked Abigail. "It can't be! Gryffindors don't lie like that!"

Quinn looked down at her sadly. "You're missing the point. Gryffindors, while brave, are not always honest. Slytherins, while clever, are not liars. Your bias against a school house prevented you from winning the game."

Fay glared. "No! It was Rory who messed us up. Don't blame this on Abigail. Whether we are bad liars or not, we should always be able to rely on members of our own house!"

"We were playing a game," Rory protested. "Houses didn't matter; teams did." Her outburst earned glares from all of her housemates. "Are you seriously going to hold this against me?" she asked.

"You know, I think we should leave," sneered Abigail. On cue, the other red-clad students at the Ravenclaw table stomped out of the Great Hall.

* * *

When Rory returned to Gryffindor Tower later that night, after another bout of studying, of course. To her chagrin, she found Isla waiting for her.

Rory took a deep breath before asking, "Isla, what are you doing here?"

Isla stood. "Oh it's so great to see you!" she gushed in her usual manner. "I was struggling with the last few Arithmancy problems, and I just thought, you know, who better to help me than the smartest person I know? I mean, omigosh, you really know your stuff!"

Rory sighed. "I can't help you tonight Isla. I already helped you this afternoon, and I have tests early tomorrow morning. I need to sleep."

Isla giggled. "You've managed to pass tests without much sleep before, though. C'mon it'll be fine. I know you can help me with this tonight and still pass with flying colors tomorrow."

"I said no. Go back to your room."

Rory turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady and whispered the password so that Isla couldn't hear. She quickly walked through the passageway and to her room. She ditched her rucksack at the foot of her bed and went to the lou to change into her pajamas and comb her hair. When she returned to the room, yawning and ready to sleep, she froze. Isla sat on her bed. How had she even gotten in?

"What are you doing?!" Rory snapped. "You're actually stalking me."

Isla giggled. "No I'm not, silly. We're friends. Just help me with this one tiny problem."

"No! Get out!"

A pillow hit Rory squarely in the back of her head. She furiously spun on her heel to face her attacker. It was Abigail. "What's your problem?" asked Rory.

"You." said Abigail. "Shut up and take your stupid drama elsewhere. We don't need to deal with a poser like you."

"Seriously?" Rory asked. "There's an intruder in our room, and you're blaming me?"  
"You're the one who let her in," Fay fumed from the other side of the room. " _Avis,_ " she said, swishing her wand at Rory. Suddenly there was a flock of bluebirds at the tip of her wand. " _Oppungo_." The birds flew at Rory, beaks scratching at her skin and pulling at her hair. In the fraction of a second immediately following the spell casting, Rory glanced at Isla with pleading eyes. _Help me_ , she thought. Isla just sat on her bed, bouncing as she witnessed this act of violence. As the first razor-sharp beak sliced Rory's shoulder, she ran out of the room, swatting at her avian attackers. They kept pecking, piercing her neck, her hands, her arms, until she escaped into the blissful hallway outside Gryffindor Tower.

Rory collapsed on the floor, tears springing from her eyes. She couldn't believe how one stupid game catalyzed such a violent response from her housemates. She didn't understand how Isla could so easily manipulate her and stalk her without any repercussions. And now, Rory couldn't even seek refuge in her own room! Where was she supposed to go? Where was she supposed to sleep? And how in the world was she supposed to take her exams tomorrow? She would be injured and sleep deprived and shaken. That was no state in which to take an exam. She thought that it might be time to visit the headmistress, but at this late hour, Rory doubted that a visit was appropriate.

As Rory shakily rose to her feet, plucking feathers from her hair, the portrait leading into the Gryffindor common room creaked open. Isla emerged through the passageway.

"Well _someone_ was being a drama llama," she said. "Like Merlin's beard, that looked like a lot to deal with. Lol, want to help me with those homework problems?"


End file.
